


Shadowed Spaces

by jane_x80



Series: Gnossienne [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s06e17 South by Southwest, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepwalking, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: After the events ofThe Inheritance, Tony is forced to allow Gibbs to drive him to Roanoke and reveal to him Paddington House, which he inherited from his Uncle Clive. Even though he would rather just take a bus there, Gibbs won't let him cope with the effects of severe sleep deprivation and sleepwalking without him, especially since Gibbs is the only person able to get Tony to get real sleep. And let's not even talk about how Gibbs is doing this.Hopefully Tony's little sleep issues will be resolved soon, because surely he can't expect Gibbs to continue to hold him while he sleeps to ensure that he doesn't start sleepwalking and hurting himself (or others) or something. Or can he?This story is the conclusion of the story that began with last year's NCIS Reverse Bang story,The Inheritance. It picks up where that story left off.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaterSoter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Shadowed Spaces (Additional Art to the Sequel of the Inheritance)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869968) by [WaterSoter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter/pseuds/WaterSoter). 



> For WaterSoter, who made the amazing prompt artwork last year, and for her patience with me to finally finish this sequel. Thank you! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation and conclusion of the second of the Reverse Bang stories that I wrote last year (2018)! If you will recall, I had to split my original story into two separate stories within a series. This is because I was unhappy with the end of the story, and I needed to rewrite it. Sadly, even though I was almost finished with the story, the muse flitted away and stayed away for a while. I know I said it would be a few weeks after I posted the first story last year. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way. But we managed to wrangle the muse back to work, so we finally finished the story! And I don't think I want to throw up with unhappiness over it anymore! Whee! So here we are with the sequel which, I know, took forever to finish. Water_Soter was incredibly patient with me. I'm so sorry it took so long. But it's done now!
> 
> A little reminder: This is the [original artwork prompt](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/solariana/7360051/39025/39025_original.jpg) that my amazing artist [WaterSoter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter) made! She made several more pieces of art and we thought we were done, but after I ended up splitting the story, she created even _more_ artwork! Finally, I'll get to show you all her amazing artwork!! You guys, WaterSoter made me five separate artwork for [The Inheritance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733104), and five _more_ for this sequel, Shadowed Spaces.
> 
> The dreamy quality of the original artwork hides a thing in the forest that is just _looking_ at us and in the last story it didn't really factor in. In this one, I ask you to keep that in mind, and mind the tags! There's spooky stuff going on in this one. Let me know if I've missed any tags.
> 
> Note that you definitely need to read The Inheritance prior to reading this, or there will be huge gaps in the story. So, yeah! If you haven't yet, definitely please read The Inheritance first and then read this one. It starts pretty much right after The Inheritance ends.
> 
> [jesco0307](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesco0307/pseuds/jesco0307) read most of this last year before I scrapped the ending that I truly hated. I didn't even let her read that ending, I hated it so much. She betaed a lot of this last year, for which I cannot thank her enough. She's done so much to make this story better. Thank you, jescco <3 All remaining mistakes are mine, of course. Please note that the ending in this story was unbeta-ed. So any mistakes there are definitely mine!
> 
> The music that helped inspire this is [Gnosienne no 1, 2, 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUAF3abGY2M) by Eric Satie. The timbre of the story made it so this piece was perfect for the story. I listened to it non-stop while finishing this story and editing it.
> 
> I found this little nugget last year when I was googling stuff: [this little entry](http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/42192624213/gnossienne). This little bit about "gnossienne" made it even more of a perfect match. I've called this series Gnossienne in honor of the music.  
>  
> 
> **gnossienne**
> 
>  
> 
> _n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand._

**Part III: Roanoke**

[](https://i.imgur.com/0Arv5WJ.jpg)

Tony slept through most of the drive to Roanoke, even though he wasn’t pleased that Gibbs had gotten the information about the house in Roanoke, about his inheritance, and had insisted on accompanying him for the weekend even though he had been more than clear that Gibbs wasn’t welcome. But in the end, he was too tired to fight about it too much. It was driving him crazy – it was as if the floodgates had opened. Before he knew it was an issue, he’d been making do and just bullying his way forward, ignoring his sleepiness and exhaustion. He was functioning. Maybe not perfectly, but he had been able to work and drive and just be himself. Be independent. But now that he knew it was a problem, he was deathly afraid that he would accidentally hurt someone because he was too tired and too sleep deprived to know better. Besides, he kept falling asleep, and for whatever reason, Gibbs was letting him sleep. Hell the man was spooning him every night to ensure that he got the kind of sleep that he needed since he seemed to be unable to get proper restful sleep without being Gibbs’ full body pillow. Or teddy bear. God, he needed to stop thinking about the fact that Gibbs was using him as a teddy bear now.

It was confusing. Gibbs had looked upset that Tony had talked about leaving NCIS and that had surprised him. Gibbs hadn’t been entirely welcoming to him for a couple of years, had had trust issues, maybe even still had memory issues, for all he knew. They’d had both a great working relationship and outside of work relationship up until Gibbs had been blown up and lost his memory. Even after the team lead returned from his temporary retirement in Mexico, Tony had felt pushed aside. Ousted, somehow. That Ziva and McGee were Gibbs’ new go to people. That Gibbs had truly forgotten what Tony brought to the table. So it really did surprise him that Gibbs was giving him this kind of leeway. He’d half expected Gibbs to just kick him off the team for being unfit. It wouldn’t be the first time Gibbs had used this kind of excuse to get rid of someone he didn’t want to work with.

But now Gibbs was sharing a bed with him and holding him down, holding him all night long in order to get him to sleep. To stop him from wandering around, a heroine somnambulist in a gothic romance novel, haunted by some ghost or other. Not that he was a heroine. Or haunted. Or some kind of helpless child. Which he absolutely wasn’t. Of course. But the last person to hold him while he slept had been Jeanne. While he was lying to her about who he was. Even if he’d loved her, loved being with her and loved being held by her, she hadn’t been holding _him_. Not really. She’d been holding Tony DiNardo, some made up guy who had Tony’s face and Tony’s heart, but wasn’t actually Tony. What did it say about him that the best relationship he’d ever had was with an amazing woman who was in love with someone who didn’t exist?

Tony probably shouldn’t think about that too hard, he knew. It was only a source of depression and hopelessness. He was better than this. He was not someone who was dependent on anyone for his own happiness. He wasn’t someone who could allow himself to be dependent on anyone, for that matter. So this whole Gibbs holding him while he slept thing was problematic. But what was the alternative? Just run around the world like the parasomniac that he was, and possibly hurt himself or others in the process? That was unacceptable. But why was Gibbs the one helping him now? Holding him so closely, so intimately, as if he meant something to him. He didn’t know what it all meant, or if it even had any real meaning. He didn’t need this confusion on top of the exhaustion he was already feeling.

Maybe it was just Gibbs’ paternal instincts coming out? Tony had to tamp down that secret wish that maybe Gibbs was doing this because he cared about him, and in more than just a friendly, teammate type way. But he had to ask himself, was Gibbs holding him at night like he was a child instead of a lover? Gibbs could be gruff and almost paternal at times, but it seemed to never be directed at him. With Abby and Ziva, and at times McGee, sure. But he’d never been paternal with Tony. Even from before the explosion that took away Gibbs’ memories, Gibbs had been his friend and mentor as well as his team leader, but it hadn’t felt like a father-son type relationship. Back then he’d been in and out of Gibbs’ house freely and frequently, feeling the kind of kinship and comfort with Gibbs that he’d never felt before. But after Gibbs came back from Mexico, things hadn’t been the same, not by a long shot. Still, throughout all the years, Gibbs had never come across as paternal to him. But of course, the man did know that to Tony being a father meant having to blindly obey orders, pouring scotch correctly at the appropriate time of day, smiling and charming his father’s associates, and taking whatever punishment that was meted out to him without complaint.

So if Gibbs was holding him at night like he would a child, then it wasn’t something Tony understood. He’d never been the kind of child anyone held at night. Hell, not even his mother had been the kind of person to hold a child while he slept, so he really didn’t quite know how to handle that. He just didn’t understand what Gibbs’ motivations were. Didn’t know why Gibbs was going to all this trouble to make sure he slept. And functioned. And drove him around to where he needed to be. But what was the alternative? Tony couldn’t do these things for himself right now, and all he could do now was allow Gibbs to take control of his life.

God, what the hell was going on with Gibbs? Why was he being so uncharacteristically _nice_? The man was even driving Tony all the way to Roanoke so he could keep working on his house, since he wasn’t allowed to drive until they figured out his sleep issues, or at the very least until he was recovered from the state of exhaustion and sleep deprivation that he’d found himself in. And he _was_ exhausted. He knew it. There was no question of it. He’d known he was running himself ragged even before all this, but the diagnosis seemed to confirm it and now that Gibbs was helping him, his body seemed to be giving up trying to fight it. He seemed to fall asleep in the car no matter how short of a drive they were taking. It disturbed him that he didn’t actually have any memory of being in the office with Gibbs the previous day. Apparently he’d fallen asleep in the car and then Gibbs had just settled him in to sleep on Abby’s futon. Abby had called him later to make sure that he was OK since he’d had an episode and he knew that he’d scared her when he started sleepwalking, but he had no memory of her waking him at all, or even sacking out on her futon. Or even the drive back to Gibbs’ house.

He should be completely freaking out about what was happening to him, but in all honesty, freaking out took more energy than he had at that point in time. So yeah. He slept all the way to Roanoke, only waking when Gibbs gently shook him awake in the parking lot of the hotel he’d stayed at his first couple times in Roanoke. Tony shook himself, stretched and yawned. He directed Gibbs out of the hotel parking lot another three blocks to an old building that had been converted into apartments.

Gibbs gave him a look.

“I have an apartment here,” Tony muttered.

“You have an apartment here?” Gibbs repeated, shocked.

Tony nodded. “I’m here every weekend off anyway,” he climbed out of the car and stretched, arms raised, his t-shirt rising up and showing a glimpse of his golden skin, only relaxing when his spine cracked. Sleeping in the car was hard on his body. Getting old sucked. “The hotel was getting costly and Serena had this listing. It’s cheaper than the hotel every week.”

“So you leased it?”

“Umm…”

“You _bought_ an apartment?”

Tony grinned sheepishly. “My attorney thought it was a good investment.”

“So you bought an apartment here. In Roanoke.”

“I can rent it out once the house is done. It’s a really nice place.” Tony grabbed his backpack and go bag from the back seat, waited for Gibbs to get his things, before heading into the building. They climbed the stairs to the third floor and Tony unlocked and opened the door into a huge, airy loft with one two-story wall that was made entirely of floor to ceiling windows.

Gibbs whistled.

Tony gave him a shy smile. “I love my apartment in DC but I don’t know, this place is pretty amazing too.”

Gibbs looked around. He saw a baby grand sitting in pride of place by the windows. The furniture was old and comfortable – antiques, probably. The furnishings were completely unlike Tony’s modern and sleek furniture in DC. The difference was stark, Tony knew, but it felt right for him here.

“I got a few things out of storage. Stuff from the Paddington House,” Tony murmured. He felt the need to explain himself to Gibbs for whatever reason. “I didn’t want to buy a bunch of new furniture when I found quite a bit of my family’s stuff was just sitting in storage, perfectly usable.”

“You buy a new piano?”

“No. That was in the storage unit, too,” Tony shrugged. “It’s a family piano, like mine in DC was my mother’s. There was another baby grand in the house itself, a different one from this one here, but Nana said the one in the house was new. Bought for my Cousin Frankie by his wife as a birthday present. It’s a valuable antique, being restored now. This one was in the storage unit, their old piano, and in awesome condition. Just needed a good tuning and regular playing. Crispian checked its provenance and says that this piano is the one that the first Paddington brought all the way from England when they first emigrated. Generations of Paddingtons have played this instrument.”

“Your mother’s people been here a long time, I take it?”

“Couple centuries, maybe,” Tony nodded. “But they all died out after World War Two. The property went back to Uncle Clive, and he left it to me as the last Paddington in the New World.” Tony didn’t feel like going into the whole sordid history of what happened to Cousin Frankie and his family. Not yet, at least.

“Nice of him.”

“He always had a soft spot for me. My mom was his only sister and it killed him that they were estranged before she died. Anyway. You can dump your bags upstairs in my room if you want. There’s only one bedroom. Sorry.” Tony abruptly changed the subject. He’d thought about offering to drop Gibbs off at the hotel, but given that Gibbs was the person actually allowing him to get restful sleep, and had been the one to insist on coming to Roanoke with him, he held his tongue. He didn’t need a concussion cause by a head slap on top of the whole severe sleep deprivation thing.

Gibbs followed Tony up an ornate spiral staircase and the ‘upstairs’ was an open floor with a huge skylight above it. Tony had a king sized bed right under the skylight, but not much else there, not even a TV. For the first time ever, Tony hadn’t felt the need to have a television in his bedroom. He loved lying in the bed and looking up at the stars instead.

“It’s nice,” Gibbs sounded begrudging.

Tony grinned at him. “Wait till it gets dark. That skylight alone is worth every penny I paid for this place.”

Gibbs grunted. Tony pointed out the attached bathroom, and assigned him a drawer if he wanted it. The chest of drawers was one from the Paddington storage unit and it was huge. Tony only had a couple drawers filled so it wasn’t like he needed to empty any drawers for Gibbs. After that, he gave Gibbs the grand tour, which took about a minute and a half. The space was wide and huge, but it was sparsely furnished. The kitchen was spacious, lots of counter space, with top of the line appliances. The range was restaurant quality. The kitchen had been newly renovated prior to the apartment being put up for sale, and had been another big draw for Tony.

One corner of the apartment was devoted to the Paddington House restoration and now that Tony had told Gibbs the truth about this project of his, he was talking Gibbs’ ear off, describing the things that they’d accomplished, and what else was being done. There were tons of pictures, all carefully labeled with a combination of Tony’s careless script and Yannick’s neat and precise handwriting. Tony showed him the pictures of the original derelict state of the house and then a succession of pictures of the restorations that they’d made so far.

“Where did these old pictures come from?” Gibbs asked, fingering a few black and white photos that looked like copies of very old photos.

“Combination of a few boxes in the storage unit, and my uncle Clive left me a bunch of photos of my mom, some of them were taken here when she and Clive summered here when they were kids,” Tony shrugged.

“She in this one?” Gibbs pointed to one which looked to be a group photo. A man, a woman, five children arranged around them.

“No that’s Cousin Frankie and his family, who last lived in the house,” Tony couldn’t help the sadness in his voice. He rummaged through the pile and found a few of the photos that contained his mother. “That’s her,” he pointed out. She would have been six or seven or so in the photo, wearing a light colored dress, ribbons in her hair. “And that’s Clive.”

Gibbs stared at the photograph, before he looked at Tony. He gave a noncommittal grunt and Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He glanced at his watch. It was getting to be lunch time.

Gibbs was jittery enough to practically draw his weapon when Tony’s front door opened without warning. Tony put his hand on Gibbs’ arm, and Yannick’s eyes were wide and he looked surprised to see them.

“Tony, I thought you were arriving later!” he gasped. “I didn’t see your car downstairs or I would have knocked.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m having some slight issues and I’m not allowed to drive,” Tony smiled, going over to him, clasping hands and pulling him in for a tight one-armed hug which was returned, the move a practiced one. Something Gibbs thought the two men did often with each other.

“I thought Federal Agents would have enough pull and be able to not get their licenses yanked for speeding tickets?” Yan teased him.

Tony laughed. “I wish. Nah, my doctor told me to stay off the roads.”

“What? For real?” Yannick pulled away and began looking him up and down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Tony whined. “But since I’m grounded, my boss was nice enough to drive me here this weekend.” Tony gestured to Gibbs who stood by the Paddington House work area, his expression dark and angry. “Boss, this is Yannick Rousseau. He’s the genius who’s making my house beautiful again. Yan, my boss, Gibbs.”

“Hello,” Yannick gave Gibbs an easy smile, apparently unconcerned with his dark scowl.

“Yeah, ignore the thunderclouds. That’s his default,” Tony stage whispered, grinning happily.

“Cute, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled.

“What’s up with you not driving? You OK?” Yannick sounded concerned.

“It’ll clear up. Just having some sleep issues and nobody wants me driving, just in case,” Tony deflected.

“Sounds serious?”

“It’s fine,” Tony really didn’t want to talk about it.

“You need to eat,” Gibbs told him grumpily.

Tony rolled his eyes, ignoring the concerned looks that Yannick was giving him now. “Fine. There’s a deli just down the road. They make great sandwiches.”

\--------------------------------------

Gibbs was mostly silent, walking behind Tony and Yannick while they discussed what had been going on with the house restoration in the last few days. At first, Tony had tried to make Gibbs walk ahead of him so he could take his customary place of a half step behind and to Gibbs’ right, ready to cover him, his spot for as long as Gibbs could remember. But Gibbs wanted to be able to keep an eye on DiNozzo this time. Yannick watched them with open curiosity while Gibbs kept manhandling him ahead of him.

“What the fuck, Gibbs?” Tony finally sputtered.

“Walk ahead of me,” Gibbs gestured with his chin.

“That’s not… Don’t you trust me to watch your six?” the hurt was obvious is Tony’s green eyes. “I’m not a goddamned invalid! I keep telling you that.”

“I’m watching your six today. Go,” Gibbs jerked his head again.

Tony blew out a long, frustrated sigh, muttered under his breath – in Italian – before he reluctantly stepped ahead, Yannick keeping abreast with him. Tony kept throwing suspicious glances back towards Gibbs, followed by an amused look from Yannick, his dark brown eyes twinkling merrily, as they walked to the deli, but he had obviously decided not to make a fuss. Gibbs swallowed a grin, happy that Tony was still obeying his orders, even if it went against the grain. What Gibbs had done to earn the man’s loyalty, he didn’t know, but he was determined to show Tony that he, too, could be loyal. And maybe Tony wouldn’t leave NCIS, despite how he had been treated the past few years. Gibbs also took the time to observe this Yannick, the man who Tony started smiling openly to and speaking to, his tone warm and fond, hands gesturing expressively as he spoke, completely ignoring the fact that two fingers of his left hand were splinted. Gibbs surreptitiously scrutinized Yannick. This was the man to whom Tony had entrusted the restoration of this family home.

He seemed nice enough. He was tall and powerfully built, and he had short hair, practically a stubble on his head and a neat, slightly stubbly goatee on his face that only ridiculously good looking black men could pull off. From what he was saying, Gibbs could tell that he knew his way around houses, carpentry, electricity, and a number of other things necessary for renovations and restorations so at least Tony hadn’t just hired some guy off the street who knew nothing. Not that Tony would have done that. This house was something that mattered to him, so Gibbs knew that he would have chosen someone suitable, and someone passionate about the work. Which Yannick seemed to be, as the two men discussed molding, of all things. Apparently none of the pictures that they had obtained had any detail on the molding used on the ceiling and baseboards and Yannick was researching houses designed by the architect of the Paddington House to see if there was historical records of the type of molding that he favored.

Tony was listening intently and ribbing Yannick for his intensity, even though it was obvious that both men cared deeply about this house. They spoke like old friends, with an ease in each other’s company that Gibbs found himself envying. Once upon a time, he and DiNozzo had had that kind of a relationship, albeit Tony would have been the one chattering away while he grunted a reply. But it had been easy in that way as well. These days, Tony was mostly guarded around him, only going back to his old chatterbox ways when he was talking through a case. Tony was one of those speak to think sort of people, needing to verbalize his ideas in order to make the connections and brilliant deductions, and Gibbs had always known that. Plus he’d always been sassy, always had that snarky tongue. But listening to the two men in front of him speak, their banter witty but never cruel, it made him miss Tony even though the man was right there in front of him. He missed what they used to have. That connection that seemed to be withering away, and it was nobody else’s fault but his.

Then Tony put an arm around Yannick’s back, patting him gently, and the big man ruffled the back of Tony’s hair affectionately, making Tony object and make comments about laying off his perfect hair. But he laughed and didn’t object or try to avoid it when Yannick’s arm ended up on his shoulder. A stab of jealousy went through Gibbs and he made a mental note to do a background check on the man. Just in case. One could never be too careful, after all.

Lunch itself was more of the same. They talked about the house, and Gibbs found himself interested despite himself, looking at the information on Tony’s tablet, as he swiped through things and took notes. Tony definitely sounded a whole lot more knowledgeable about home improvements, restorations, antique furniture and a slew of other stuff that Gibbs knew that Tony had previously had absolutely no interest in. Whatever the hell else was going on with him, this house was important to him. Important in a way that nothing else except maybe work had ever been before.

Afterwards, Gibbs tagged along as Yannick drove his pickup truck to the house. The infamous house. Tony was practically vibrating with excitement, constantly turning to Yannick and Gibbs where he was sitting shotgun in the car, chattering on to Gibbs who was in the backseat, about his favorite things about the house.

“You gonna show me the wall that attacked you the other day?” Gibbs rolled his eyes at the younger man.

Tony smiled happily, his cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling with happiness. “That wall is _down_ ,” he said with satisfaction. “It is _gone_. It can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

“It wouldn’t have hurt anyone but you though, Tony,” Yannick teased.

Tony shot him a dirty look. “It was a sledgehammer and a wall. I was wearing goggles and safety gear, like I was supposed to. Nobody warned me that the wall would fight back!”

“Probably didn’t help that you were in no condition to be doing construction work,” Gibbs grumbled.

“Hey!” Tony objected. “I’m totally _fine_.”

“What the hell is going on with you, Tony?” Yannick asked, sounding concerned.

Gibbs really wanted to hate the man, but he seemed to be so open, competent in his work, and so goddamned nice. At least Tony had surrounded himself with people who would help him and support him here, so really, Gibbs couldn’t really be upset about that.

Tony glared at Gibbs. “Nothing a few nights of sleep won’t cure,” he mumbled to Yannick.

Those piercing brown eyes met Gibbs’ in the rear view mirror. Yannick gave him a skeptical look and Gibbs had to give the man credit for knowing that Tony might not be giving him the complete story. “You said your doctor said you shouldn’t drive?” the man turned back to Tony.

Tony hummed a soft agreement.

“What else aren’t you allowed to do?”

Tony heaved a huge sigh before he turned to his friend. “No alcohol, no driving, no operating heavy machinery, no caffeine. I’m benched from working. Benched from _everything_. It’s not fun,” he pouted.

“Did you say you’re having sleep issues?” the man wasn’t just going to let this go, and Gibbs felt like cheering from the back seat.

“Mmhmm.”

“Gibbs? You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Yannick’s eyes were on Gibbs in the rear view mirror.

Tony turned his head to glare at Gibbs, silently warning him not to say anything.

“He’s not sleeping,” Gibbs said curtly.

“What? Did something happen?”

“ _Nothing_ happened. I’m just not sleeping right. Nobody knows why I’m not getting proper sleep,” Tony turned to look out his window.

“And you’re seeing a doctor for this, right?”

“Gibbs made me,” Tony grumbled. “I’ve already spent two nights at a sleep clinic and talk about no fun.”

“How long has this been going on? This not sleeping thing?”

Tony shrugged.

“Weeks,” Gibbs inserted. “Doctors say he’s been sleep deprived for weeks.”

“Tony…”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Tony insisted mutinously, still looking out the window.

Yannick sighed and made a face at Gibbs in the rear view mirror again. Gibbs shrugged. What could you do. Tony was who he was. Tony was the guy who insisted that he was fine when he came back to work after the plague, looking like death warmed over, and he still managed to save two of his teammates from being blown to bits by a car bomb even though he still couldn’t manage a good lungful of oxygen. That was the value of Tony’s ‘fine’, so Gibbs knew to ignore it. Yannick would learn this, too, if he wanted to keep Tony safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! <3
> 
> Here's the next chapter! I meant to get it polished up and posted this morning but, well, I ran out of time.
> 
> I'll reply to your lovely comments in the morning (it's time to get the kids off to bed!). Another chapter tomorrow :)

[](https://i.imgur.com/j6ZrZBj.jpg)

They arrived at an imposing looking house and Tony practically bounded out of the car and up the porch steps. Gibbs could see that he was happy and excited and didn’t look quite so exhausted for the first time in a long time. He understood how Yannick wouldn’t have seen how tired Tony must have gradually become. Tony was so full of life and happily walking through the house, running his fingers over and touching everything, while Yannick told him all the details that he’d missed over the past week. Tony asked good questions, and smiled happily at everything. There were a few people working on things scattered throughout the house, even though it was a Saturday, and Gibbs noted that Tony greeted them all by their first names, gave them a hug or a clasped hands with them, asked about their families, knowing the names of spouses, children, pets and a lot of detail about each person. Tony had always been good with people, one of the reasons why he complemented Gibbs because Gibbs was just awful with people on a good day, a nightmare on bad days. Tony introduced Gibbs to everyone and again, he spoke to everyone about what work they had accomplished on the house over the past week, listening intently and praising them all for their work.

Tony and Yannick took Gibbs on a tour of the house, even wandering upstairs where the walls were stripped bare and the floors were being reinforced. There was an ancient baby grand in one of the rooms. Tony told him that it was being restored and that because of the work being done in the house, the piano restorer usually came on Sundays to work on it in peace, without the construction work and perpetual noise going on. After that, they took him on a tour of the area surrounding the house.

Gibbs noted the lake at the back of the property, and glared at Tony.

“What?” the younger man frowned at him.

Gibbs jerked his head at the lake.

Tony huffed a breath in annoyance. “I’m not sleeping in this house yet, you know,” his tone was snippy. “I’m far away in town, nowhere near this lake.”

Gibbs snorted.

“I _know_ I’m missing something here,” Yannick observed dryly.

“I’m _sleepwalking_ , OK?” Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting restful sleep, and I’m sleepwalking. Gibbs is worried I’m going to drown myself in a lake while I’m perambulating at night.”

“Is that a possibility?” Yannick gave him a concerned look.

“No!” Tony was exasperated.

“Tony…”

“The doctors will fix me up in no time and I can get my life back to normal. Nothing to worry about.”

“But what about your cousin…?” Yannick started to say.

“This has absolutely nothing to do with any of _that_ ,” Tony interrupted him sharply.

“Now I feel like _I’m_ missing something here,” Gibbs growled, observing the look Tony and Yannick exchanged.

“It’s nothing,” Tony insisted, giving Yannick a significant look. Yannick sighed but nodded.

Gibbs gave them a sharp look but held his tongue. He knew that this was not the time to question Tony about this. Maybe if he could get to speak to Yannick alone, that might help him. But for now, he let it go and walked around Tony’s property. He breathed deeply. The air was fresh and clear. He couldn’t hear the sounds of the city, and the woods looked amazing – definitely old and undisturbed. He wondered how much of the woods were a part of Tony’s property. Part of him wanted to go exploring and hiking. The grounds of Paddington House were lovely. Even Gibbs could see how much history there was in the house, and in the town, and he could feel how comfortable Tony was here. How much Tony felt like he belonged. It was reminiscent of how Tony used to be when they were hanging out together. Tony used to feel as if he belonged with Gibbs. But that feeling had been gone for some time. And for all that Gibbs wanted to keep Tony with him where he could watch his six, he couldn’t begrudge the man a place where he truly belonged. Tony obviously felt some kind of connection to the house, and from the pictures and the stories, his Uncle Clive had told him about this house, and had tied in stories of his mother into it.

That had always been Tony’s weakness – his need to know more about his mother. As someone whose mother had also died when he was a boy, he really understood that about Tony. But he’d had his mother longer than Tony had, and his mother didn’t come from a whole other country, and been estranged from her family for his entire lifetime until her untimely death. Gibbs had good memories of his mother, and had known his maternal grandparents and his mother’s family. Still exchanged Christmas cards with one of his maternal cousins, in fact. But Tony hadn’t had that until he was much older, and the Paddingtons had reached out to him, hoping that the taint of the senior DiNozzo would have escaped their long lost nephew.

So he kept his peace and watched as Tony bounced around his family property, his own personal history come alive, and was so happy there. Gibbs found himself wandering back through the house, speaking to a few of the workmen, gravitating especially towards the carpenters and woodworkers, all of whom were experienced in their craft. Gibbs was in the middle of a lively discussion about using only hand tools and a combination of hand tools and power tools with one of the carpenters when Tony came bounding into the room.

Bob, the carpenter, ribbed Tony about his whole thing with the sledgehammer and the wall, and Tony took the teasing with good humor, proudly showing off his splinted fingers and raising his shirt to show off his still-bruised torso. He wore his injuries like a war wound, and seemed pleased to have incurred them. He also kept giving a portion of the wall an extra kick every time he walked by, which made Gibbs roll his eyes and suppress a smile. It had to have been the wall that he’d tried to take down the previous weekend and the little petty kicks Tony gave it as he walked by and the look of satisfaction when he saw that the wall had been torn down and was being rebuilt completely was – in a word – adorable.

Gibbs knew that what he was seeing was satisfaction in a job that Tony was proud to be a part of. The team lead wasn’t inexperienced in this feeling either – when he finished a boat, and when he burned it, he felt that same feeling. It was interesting to observe Tony have the same sort of experiences and emotions about something so close to him, and not bother to hide it. Amongst Yannick and the other people working on his house, Tony was open about everything to do with the house. He was also laughingly refusing to entertain any of the offers of dates – with sisters, co-workers, friends – that the workmen seemed to dangle before him, which made Gibbs inexplicably happy. But of course, every time he saw Tony and Yannick put their heads close together, whispering about who knew what, and exchanging looks that silently spoke words to each other, he wanted to either poke his own eyeballs out with a fork, or punch Yannick’s face in, neither of which were particularly good ideas. So he tried not to think about it too hard. After all, he’d gone through years of ignoring Tony’s romantic attachments. What was one more guy in the mix?

They stayed at the house for a little while. Gibbs ended up taking off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, and working alongside Bob, who was pleased to see that Tony had brought a competent woodworker to town. Tony rolled his eyes, clapped both Gibbs and Bob on their backs before he ran off.

“Stay away from sledgehammers!” Gibbs growled at him.

“And walls!” Bob added.

Tony turned and stuck his tongue out at both of them before disappearing somewhere. For the first time in days, Gibbs wasn’t worried that Tony would fall asleep and get in trouble. The men working on the house seemed to have adopted him, and Gibbs’ gut told him that Tony would be watched and helped and not left alone when they were at the house. Besides, Yannick was probably going to stick close to him since he knew that Tony was having sleep-related health issues. Gibbs focused on the work and enjoyed the effort of helping Tony restore his house.

It surprised Gibbs when Tony and Yannick came by, and everyone was starting to finish up whatever they were doing. It was going on 1800 they were all quitting for the night.

“My mother is expecting us at 6:30,” Yannick told him.

“What?” Gibbs asked.

“Yan’s mom has a weekly family dinner and we can’t miss it,” Tony told him. “And we definitely shouldn’t miss it because it’s always amazing food. Plus Serena didn’t make it last week, and I haven’t seen her in weeks.”

“Family dinner?” Gibbs asked. Wow. Were things between Tony and Yannick that far along that Tony was now an accepted member of the family? Tony sounded as if he were a regular at the family dinners. Gibbs couldn’t see any unease or discomfort in Tony’s entire demeanor.

“Maybe you can drop me off at your apartment then?” Gibbs asked.

“Nonsense,” Yannick told him. “My mother will be upset if you don’t come.”

Gibbs gave Tony a questioning look, and the younger man just grinned and nodded. “You can’t disappoint Ms Rousseau, man. I learned my lesson the one time I got distracted and forgot to show up.”

“Not to mention, _I_ was blamed for not making Tony come that week,” Yannick added.

Gibbs made a face. “I’m not really a people sort of person.”

Tony gave a short bark of laughter. “Yeah, yeah. Nobody is under the impression that you’re a people person, Boss,” he said easily. “But still, I know I don’t want to get in trouble with Ms Rousseau for not bringing you to dinner while you’re here.”

Gibbs found himself being herded back into the truck and Yannick started the car while Tony locked the front door. Yannick flashed him easy, friendly smiles on the drive and Tony ignored him, completely enthralled by the recent progress on the house. Despite all his worries, it actually warmed Gibbs’ heart to see Tony so openly happy about something. It had been a long time since he’d seen his second so happy and content, and so looking forward to the future. The last few years hadn’t been easy on the poor man. Even Gibbs could see that.

Gibbs was ushered into the house, introduced to Yannick’s sister and her husband and children, their mother, and a few other people. Gibbs watched as Tony knelt on the floor in front of an elderly woman and let her run her gnarled fingers over his face, a small fond smile quirking his lips and crinkling his eyes.

“My Samuel,” the old woman said tenderly.

“It’s Anthony, Nana,” Tony corrected her gently.

“All grown up, my lovely Samuel,” the woman smiled and kissed his forehead. Tony knelt by her feet for as long as she wanted to keep looking at his face, and when she released him, he stood, hugged her and kissed her cheek.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Yannick.

“My Nana sometimes forgets who Tony is,” he said softly. “Sometimes she thinks he’s Samuel Paddington, one of Tony’s Roanoke cousins who died when he was a child many, many years ago. She was the Paddingtons’ nanny back in the day.”

Gibbs nodded, understanding how Tony would have grasped at that connection with a family that he’d always wanted. He watched as Tony was folded into the group seamlessly, interacting with everyone without any of the self-consciousness or discomfort that usually came with Tony being in the context of a family with small children. Tony was the doting uncle to Serena’s two children. Gibbs stayed mostly silent, although he wasn’t unfriendly, mostly watching Tony throughout the evening, and as dinner was served. They were in the middle of dinner when Gibbs’ phone rang.

“Excuse me,” Gibbs nodded politely to Yannick’s mother and grandmother.

“Rule Number Three,” Serena’s two children chorused, before they giggled, and Tony high fived them across the table, laughing too.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, although the depth of Tony’s connection to the Rousseaus became even more clear to him if the kids knew Gibbs’ rules, before he walked off to take the call. “Gibbs,” he answered with his customary brusqueness.

“Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!” It was Abby and she was excited.

“What’s up?”

“Gibbs! Tony didn’t leave his phone at home this weekend! I’ve tracked him down!”

Right. In the whole thing about the seriousness of Tony’s sleep deprivation and parasomnia episodes and whatnot, he’d forgotten to tell Abby to stop tracking Tony’s phone. “Abs…” he started to say.

“Listen, he’s in Roanoke and my GPS says I’m like two minutes away. I’m going to totally surprise him and find out what the hell he’s been so secretive about!” Abby went on and Gibbs knew that she wasn’t even listening to him at this point.

Gibbs blew out a tired sigh before he realized what Abby had just said. “Did you just say you’re two minutes away?” he barked.

“Yeah! I told you! He didn’t pull a James Bond with his phone on us this weekend so I decided to follow him!”

“Abs! I _know_ where he is!”

“He is not at his apartment or your house, Bossman!”

“I know! Because I’m here with him!”

“What?”

“I’m in Roanoke!”

“What? Why?”

And there was Abby’s hearse, rounding the corner. Gibbs hung up and stood, hands in his pockets, gritting his teeth with annoyance. Of course, he should have remembered to tell Abby to stop monitoring Tony’s phone when Tony finally told him the truth, and especially when Gibbs decided to drive Tony to Roanoke.

Well, fuck it. Tony. Gibbs knew he needed to warn his second so he dialed Tony and waited for the younger man to answer, this time not with his customary ‘DiNozzo.’

“Hey, Boss, did we catch a case? You gotta run back to DC?” he asked. “No worries, I’ll bus back home whenever I’m done here.”

Gibbs did not like how happy the man seemed to be to be getting rid of him. “No. No case. Heads up on an incoming Abby, though.”

“What? Did you just say ‘heads up on Abby’?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Why?”

Gibbs watched as Abby parked her car and hopped out, eyes bright and mischievous. He sighed as the forensic scientist skipped over to him – yes, a grown woman decked out in all her Goth glory, with platform heeled combat boots that made her tower over Gibbs actually skipped over to him from her car – yelling out his name exuberantly.

“Is that Abby I hear?” Tony’s voice sounded shocked in his ear.

Gibbs grunted and hung up the phone. Well. That was that then. He started a mental countdown from ten while Abby jumped him and started to hug the bejesus out of him, and when he hit ‘two’, the front door opened and Tony came hurrying out.

“ _Abs_?” he exclaimed. “What the fu.. fudge are you doing here?” Gibbs saw Tony’s eyes flick quickly to the door, and yup, Serena’s rugrats were trying to escape their mother’s grip and standing right at the open doorway.

“Tony!” Abby released Gibbs and threw herself into Tony’s arms. “So _this_ is where you’ve been hiding out!”

“What are you talking about? Why are you here, Abs?” Tony returned the hug, even though he was still asking questions.

“Well, a few weeks ago, the Bossman and I realized that you weren’t where you said you were every weekend,” Abby wagged her finger at him. “So he asked me to track your phone.”

“ _Gibbs_ asked you to _track my phone_?” Tony was outraged.

“Well, we were concerned about you, you know,” Abby turned on those sad, puppy dog eyes.

“ _Concerned_ about me?”

“Yeah! Cause you haven’t been looking very well, and you’ve been hiding stuff from us. You know I don’t like when you hide things from me,” Abby pouted.

“So you tracked my phone?”

“You used my trick to hide yourself from me!” Abby said accusingly.

“I was trying to keep my whereabouts private! Privacy, Abs. It’s a thing.”

“You were hiding from us!”

“So you kept tracking my phone? Even though you told me you couldn’t crack that encryption that you taught me?”

“ _Gibbs_ told me to do it!” Abby pointed to Gibbs and grinned mischievously at him.

“It’s a blatant misuse of NCIS equipment and time,” Tony grumbled. “That’s a federal offense.”

Gibbs glared at the happy goth girl. “You didn’t have to follow him here.”

“You didn’t have to track my phone either,” Tony glared at the both of them.

“Tony, why don’t you introduce your friend to us, and invite her in to eat with us?” Ms Rousseau interrupted, smiling at Abby. “Please, come in and eat with us.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt dinner!” Abby’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she saw the children watching from the doorway, and the number of people who were watching them.

“Well, let’s listen to Ms Rousseau and get off her front lawn, huh?” Tony put an arm around Abby and walked her towards the door. He turned and pinned Gibbs with a fierce glare that let him know that they weren’t done with the subject of Abby tracking his phone. Tony wasn’t going to air their dirty laundry in public though, so Gibbs knew he could look forward to an argument about it later.

They trooped into the house and almost magically, another place was set and Abby was seated at the table with everyone. Tony made the introductions.

“Did you say that you were tracking Tony’s phone?” Serena asked.

Abby nodded.

“Isn’t that something most phones allow these days? GPS tracking?” Yannick asked.

Abby shook her head. “Tony wouldn’t just make it that easy for me. He was masking his location by leaving his real phone at home, and encrypting his call forwarding to what I would guess is a secret phone that isn’t actually a burner phone, but a clone of his real phone, or Gibbs would have noticed that he’s using a burner phone.”

Tony sighed noisily.

“Why would you do that?” Serena gave Tony an innocent look.

“There’s something called privacy,” Tony grumbled.

“You went to great lengths to ensure it,” Serena continued.

“With what you’re seeing now, can you blame me?” Tony gestured at Gibbs and Abby.

Serena made a face, and it did make Gibbs feel bad. Because they had definitely gone past the line with that.

“Uncle Tony’s James Bond!” Serena’s daughter yelled.

“He’s not James Bond,” Abby told the kid, her expression serious. “He’s Batman.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Obviously I needed to do a lot to keep things private, since _this_ is what I get for not going through the clandestine routine this weekend,” he grumbled.

“I still blame Gibbs,” Abby smiled at Gibbs, and he rolled his eyes and snorted at her.

“This was supposed to be something just for _me_ ,” Tony glared at Gibbs. “Not for everyone at work.”

“Bossman and me aren’t everyone,” Abby gave Tony a guilty look. “I’m sorry, Tony…”

Tony pursed his lips, pouting, but he dropped the subject. But again, Gibbs could see the look in his eyes. Gibbs was sure this was not going to be the last he heard about this.

“Well, you are one determined young lady,” Ms Rousseau told her.

“I am,” Abby dimpled at her. “Although I do apologize for crashing your dinner.”

“It’s fine, child.”

Gibbs wondered, though, if Ms Rousseau was truly fine with this all, especially since Tony still looked upset. But Tony was definitely one of those people who wouldn’t pick a fight where it would be witnessed, not unless it was for a reason.

“What is this thing that you’re hiding from me anyway? I still don’t know,” Abby asked.

“His Uncle Clive left him a historic house here that needs to be restored,” Gibbs summarized, knowing that hiding anything from Abby now would be pointless.

“Oooooohhhhh!” Abby squealed. “That’s so exciting! I want to see the house. And I want to help too, Tony! You know I’ve done so much work with Habitat for Humanity that I can build houses in my sleep.”

“Maybe we can go see the house tomorrow?” Tony raised an eyebrow at Gibbs, who nodded.

“But wait, this thing with tracking Tony. So Abby, you suspected that Tony was hiding something and so you tracked his phone?” Serena asked again.

“Uh-huh!” Abby smiled brightly.

“And see how she doesn’t even think there’s anything wrong with that?” Tony pouted.

“So you were expecting her to do this and this is why you got a second phone and went to all that trouble to hide your location?” Serena’s husband asked.

“I guess?” Tony wrinkled his nose. “Abby doesn’t like it when we keep secrets from her.”

Serena sighed and shook her head. “Sounds like you have a family that cares about you in DC, Tony.”

“Bunch of nosy people who just can’t stop prying,” Tony muttered.

“Yup. That’s pretty much family for you,” Yannick patted his back kindly, but he did keep giving Abby strange looks. It made Gibbs wince to view this aspect of their little NCIS family from an outsider’s lens. Especially when Tony still didn’t look very happy.

“I should’ve known that the jig was up when Tony stopped hiding though,” Abby shook her head. “Plus, I did know that he can’t drive and he still ended up here so yeah, I should’ve figured that he would have had to tell the Bossman whatever secret it is he’s hiding from us, and to talk the Bossman into driving him all the way out here.”

“I didn’t talk him into anything. He insisted on driving me here. I was just going to get on a bus,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Wait, why can’t you drive, Tony?” Ms Rousseau asked.

Abby and Tony froze, and Abby’s lips turned down in an apologetic grimace at Tony. Tony blew out a breath and pursed his lips, looking like he was searching for words.

“He’s having trouble sleeping,” Gibbs finally broke the awkward silence. “Sleep deprivation. No work. No driving. No caffeine. No alcohol. No operating heavy machinery. No other medication.”

“Oh! That’s why he said no to the wine tonight!” Serena nodded.

“Is it serious?” Ms Rousseau asked.

“No,” Tony said, at the same time that Gibbs said “Yes.”

Tony glared at Gibbs, who shrugged, not even a bit sorry he wasn’t sugar coating this thing for Tony.

“Which is it?”

“He’s benched from working, and driving and a bunch of stuff until he’s better,” Gibbs said shortly. “That’s how serious it is.”

“They just haven’t figure it out yet,” Tony countered. “Because I’m completely fine.”

“This is the most awake I’ve seen you in days, Tony,” Abby said softly.

“Let’s just stop with the worrying until there’s a reason to worry, alright?” Tony said gruffly.

“Eat your dinner,” Gibbs pointed to Tony’s plate which was still half filled with food. It was very unlike Tony to not scarf down his meals.

Tony blushed, but he did start forking food into his mouth, so Gibbs didn’t push it further. He watched while Yannick’s family fussed around Tony, until Serena’s daughter Leila, who was maybe six or so, pointed to Abby.

“You’re dressed funny,” she said. “Like it’s Halloween.”

“Well, it’s because Halloween is my favorite holiday and I want it to be Halloween every day!” Abby smiled at her.

“I like it,” she declared. “Mommy, can I pretend it’s Halloween every day and go to school in different costumes?”

Serena laughed. “I suppose so,” she smiled.

“Your workplace doesn’t object?” Yannick asked carefully. “I would think Federal Agencies are more about rules and regulations in the workplace.”

“Oh, I try to play it down somewhat on court days,” Abby explained. “But no, NCIS has never tried to put me in a box or forced me to not be myself.”

“Well…” Tony jumped in.

“True, Tony. Except for that time when Director Shepard tried to make us all cookie cutter and regulation following zombies that time after she took over,” Abby pointed her fork at Tony. “That was not the best time. But she mellowed out and Vance doesn’t care how I dress as long as I get the work done. So it all works out.”

“What do you do, exactly?” Serena asked.

“I’m a Forensic Scientist,” Abby dimpled.

“The best Forensic Scientist in the country, at least,” Tony chimed in.

Abby pointed her fork sternly at Tony’s plate that still had food on it, and he made a face but resumed eating.


	3. Chapter 3

[](https://i.imgur.com/ihBNWtD.jpg)

They spent a pleasant hour there where Abby entertained everyone with stories of some of the things she had had to do in the name of obtaining evidence. Both of Serena’s children loved the idea of solving things using science, and Abby expertly talked to them about how science fit in with solving crimes. Gibbs sometimes forgot that Abby was who they sent to schools to talk to students, primarily girls, about how cool science was. But he was reminded of it that night when by the time dinner was over, both of Serena’s children claimed that science was their new favorite subject, and that they were going to be as cool as Abby and become a Forensic Scientist.

Afterwards, Abby followed Yannick’s truck as they drove back to Tony’s apartment. Tony had taken the back seat and by the time they arrived back at the apartment building, he was curled up against the window, asleep. Even in the darkened back seat of the car, the dark circles under his eyes looked like bruises, and he looked tired and unwell.

Yannick sighed and frowned at the still figure when they were parked. “Is he really OK?” he asked softly.

Gibbs blew out a soft breath. “We’re trying to get him there.”

Yan gave him a long look before he nodded softly. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Gibbs grunted a thank you to him before he got out of the truck. He went around the back and opened the door, catching Tony before he could fall out, and gently shaking him awake. More or less. Gibbs knew that Tony wasn’t really awake and wouldn’t even remember any of this the next day, so he took charge. Even though he could feel Yannick watching them closely as Tony stumbled out and Gibbs wrapped an arm around his waist, he ignored it and herded him and Abby up to Tony’s apartment.

Gibbs managed to get Tony up to his bedroom, made him use the bathroom and stripped him down to his boxers, before tucking him into bed. Abby was watching him tuck Tony in, her eyes wide and concerned.

They went down the stairs and Abby squealed softly at Tony’s new apartment before she turned to Gibbs, looking concerned again.

“He wasn’t really awake when you got him out of the car, was he?” she asked.

Gibbs shook his head. “He didn’t even remember being in your lab and on your futon that day, Abs.” It was a relief to have someone to talk to about this all.

“That’s terrible! Poor Tony!” Abby shook her head.

“He’s scrappy. We’ll get him fixed in no time. But he’s not going to forget about you tracking his phone and driving here.”

Abby had the grace to look ashamed, but Gibbs was just as much to blame for this, really. So he just gave her a hug and hoped that Tony wouldn’t be too hard on them in the morning.

They spent the rest of the evening watching TV while Abby talked at him. When it got later, Gibbs found extra pillows and blankets in a closet and made a bed for Abby on the couch before he started up the stairs.

“He doesn’t have a guest bedroom up there, does he?” Abby asked.

Gibbs shook his head.

“Nice work, getting to sleep in his bed with him,” Abby smirked.

“It’s not like that,” Gibbs growled.

“No? Well, that’s OK too. But it’s nice that you get to do this with him, even if it’s just sleeping together and nothing else,” she continued.

Gibbs gave her a look.

“Oh, Bossman. You know you don’t have to pretend with me. I’ve known how you feel about Tony for a long time.”

Gibbs couldn’t help but gape at her.

“I’ve wanted to fix the two of you up together for a while now, but neither of you seemed receptive to meddling so I haven’t done anything. But don’t pretend to me that you feel nothing for him.”

Gibbs blew out a breath and quirked an eyebrow, making a face at her. Abby hugged him and kissed his cheek and sent him off to bed before Tony could escape and go for a midnight walk.

Tony had been right about the skylight above the bed. It was definitely amazing. Gibbs laid there, spooning Tony, his head twisted slightly awkwardly so he could keep looking up at the sky. The night was clear, the stars were bright. Much brighter than they were in DC. Gibbs couldn’t help but sigh in contentment, and wonder, what would it be like to lie there with Tony on top of him, doing _things_ to him maybe with his delectable mouth, or his hands, Gibbs wasn’t sure he would be that picky as long as it was Tony. He could just lie back and stare at the stars as he enjoyed the ministrations as well as the view. It was maudlin, maybe, but after days of sleeping with Tony literally in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would be if things were different between them. If they were actually sleeping together because Tony wanted to do it, and that Tony wasn’t being forced to accept being held in his sleep in order to actually go through healthy sleep cycles.

The stars kept him awake for a long while that night.

\--------------------------------------

Suffice it to say, Tony lit into the both of them in the morning, about invading his privacy, tracking his whereabouts and then crashing his party. Even when he was hours out of town. Gibbs just took it stoically, and Abby seemed to realize that if she put up a fuss, Tony would kick her out and send her home, so she ended up following Gibbs’ example and taking the tongue lashing Tony gave them without making excuses. She did end up apologizing, and even though Gibbs had rules against it, he decided to let it lie. Luckily for them, after he blew up at them, Tony decided that he would accept Abby’s apology and (probably) Gibbs’ tacit apology, move past it, and just enjoy his limited time in Roanoke. Abby had to solemnly promise not to do anything like this again.

But on the whole, Abby had taken the news of Tony’s secret inheritance quite well. She’s sworn to Tony that she would keep it a secret, and not blab about it to everyone. And Tony rewarded her with the kind of affection that Gibbs hadn’t seen between Tony and Abby in months. Whatever it was that had been bothering Tony and making him hold back hadn’t just been a barrier between only Tony and Gibbs. Tony had been holding himself back and aloof from Abby and quite possibly the entire team. Gibbs wondered why he hadn’t even truly seen that before, and needed this reminder of Tony’s behavior of the past years to see the difference between how things were then and how they were now. Had Tony really not felt welcome on his team or even at NCIS for a while now? Did he have good reason to feel that way? And had Gibbs been willfully ignoring it?

The honest answers to those questions made Gibbs uncomfortable.

Abby’s presence in Roanoke made things both easier and more difficult for Gibbs at the same time. When she realized that Tony was on medical leave and Gibbs had taken time off to ensure Tony rested, and that they were staying on in Roanoke as long as they could – basically until Tony’s doctor told him to return for more tests or treatment or whatever was in store for him with the whole sleepwalking issue – she also insisted on staying. After all, she had just as many accrued vacation days and HR bugged her just as much as they bugged Gibbs and Tony to take the days off that had been accruing for years. And besides, she had all those years of experience working with Habitat for Humanity and was way handier with a hammer and drywall and construction in general than Tony was, and that was the end of that. Or something to that extent. Gibbs preferred to let her make her own arguments and abide by whatever decision Tony made.

Which of course then meant that Abby talked Tony into letting her stay, and after breakfast, a meal that she forced Tony to actually sit and eat until she was satisfied with how much he ate. They had to go out for breakfast because Tony had nothing edible in his fridge, not surprising since he didn’t live there full time. She also talked Tony into taking her and Gibbs for a private tour of Paddington House. Tony was unable to resist the force of nature that was Abigail Sciuto when she had a cause. And her cause was to ensure Tony ate, and he rested, and to see this house that meant so much to her friend and that he’d felt insecure enough about that he had to hide it from them. Abby had absolutely gone through the guidebooks that Tony had left on his table with the rest of the Paddington House renovation information, and was intrigued by the tragic history of the house.

Gibbs had listened with half an ear to Abby talking Tony’s ears off, trying to convince him to let her stay, and once that happened, she was enthusiastically speaking about the history of the house, and the spookiness that had been attributed to it in the past. She had seen the pictures of the house before any of the restoration had started, and it piqued her little Gothic heart to no end. Gibbs had picked up on the fact that the last of the Paddingtons of Roanoke had all died in the house in some awful way, but he wasn’t really listening at this point. Abby did that to him sometimes, where she talked and talked and kept on talking, and it took all of Gibbs’ energy to just sit there and grunt every so often, even though he wasn’t taking in any of her words at that point. It was like a defense mechanism really, with the word vomit that Abby could put a person through. But Tony seemed to be listening, so Gibbs tuned out. He made a mental note to look into the real history of the house to find out what exactly had happened to the family, given that guidebooks, especially those that wanted to sell copies of them, might play up the drama of the supposedly haunted homes of Roanoke and really weren’t the most reliable sources of information.

But Gibbs did end up driving them to the house after lunch – which was another meal that they had out at a café or other, and another meal during which Abby glared Tony into actually eating his food. Gibbs would have to try and figure out what the deal was with the not eating. Tony seemed to not even notice it until Abby had to force him to eat. It really wasn’t normal for Tony, who tended to enjoy his meals, just like he tended to enjoy sex, as something to relish and appreciate, and that good food and good sex was something he accepted as his right as a matter of course. So a Tony who forgot to eat and who didn’t feel like eating when faced with good food was like a Tony who turned down good, uncomplicated sex with an attractive partner. And from what Tony was telling them about his activities of the past few months, he hadn’t had any time to have any of his usual one night stands. It was like Tony had forgotten about food and sex in his drive to restore his family house.

This thought made Gibbs grumpy. Not that he wanted to hear about the million and one sexual partners that Tony usually had on a regular basis, but this deviation from normal behavior was yet one more thing for him to catalog and include in his own private diagnosis of what was wrong with Tony.

He pushed these thoughts away and focused on Tony’s directions. He could have probably found his way back to Paddington House after being driven there the previous day, but it was nice to have Tony nudge him and point things out as well as tell him which way to go. It was a nice, simple, honest interaction. But he paid attention to how to get there closely this time to ensure that he would be able to drive them back later, in case Tony conked out in the car like he usually did.

All the sleep Tony had had in the past few days must have done him some good. He’d stayed mostly awake in the car with Yannick the previous day and had been awake and engaged at the family dinner, only falling asleep on the way home. Presently, he seemed to be doing ok, turning halfway in his seat so he could speak to Abby, and interspersing the conversation with directions as well as pointing out interesting sites and spewing little tidbits about Roanoke on the drive.

“You’re going to be nice to Jim,” Tony warned Abby.

“Who’s Jim?” Gibbs asked, curious now.

“The piano restorer,” Tony turned to him. “I told you about him yesterday? He only works Sundays because he doesn’t like the noise and whatnot? And we’re all under strict instructions not to even breathe on the piano while we’re there. We couldn’t move it out of the house, it was in too delicate a condition, so we’re paying Jim an arm and a leg to work on this thing on site.”

“I thought you already had the Paddington piano in your apartment?” Abby asked.

“That’s the first one. The one the first Paddington brought here from England when the family first emigrated. That’s a Petrof,” Tony’s tone was reverent, making Gibbs wonder just how much that piano would cost if Tony were to sell it.

“So there’s another piano?”

Tony nodded. “Cousin Frankie’s wife gave it to him as a birthday present the year they all died.”

“Wow! And they just left this one in the house? That’s the practically ruined one in the pictures?”

“Yeah. Stories of some kind of bad juju about the piano. Rumors or something. I don’t know,” Tony shrugged. “Turn right at the light,” he muttered to Gibbs. He directed his next words back at Abby. “It’s one of the very first Steinway models ever to have been made here in this country though, so it’s valuable and historical. We found its provenance in with Frankie’s paperwork in the storage unit. So yeah. We definitely want to fix this piano back up. I might actually put this particular piano in storage and put the Petrof back in the house at some point. The Steinway should probably be put in a museum somewhere, to be honest. It’s pretty amazing and historical and I don’t think it should just be left in a house and not played. I mean, an instrument is meant to be played, and this Steinway is going to be fucking amazing when Jim is through with it.”

Gibbs flicked his eyes to the younger man and saw how his eyes were all lit up, and color heightened in his cheekbones at the mention of the piano. This passion that Tony had for life, for beautiful things, this was one of the reasons that Gibbs needed him in his life. Gibbs had nothing but darkness and sadness, and Tony, even though he hadn’t had an easy life by any means, seemed to be able to overcome all of Gibbs’ darkness and doom and gloom with his own unique brand of light and sarcastic humor. Gibbs couldn’t even imagine how his life would have turned out if he hadn’t found Tony and recruited him practically on the spot. He had no doubt that he would have probably been dead twenty times over. It wasn’t like Gibbs had a death wish anymore, and for a long time after his girls died, living wasn’t exactly the thing that was foremost in Gibbs’ mind. But Tony’s zeal for life had somehow encompassed him and dragged him along and yeah, he was still alive, if nothing else he wanted to keep living to keep watching Tony’s six. Something that he’d obviously forgotten about in the past few years, but now that he was aware and could see how he was negatively affecting the younger man, he resolved to change his behavior. Just because he had feelings for Tony didn’t mean that he needed to behave so awfully towards him. He’d had these feelings for a long time, and prior to the whole losing his memory and running away to Mexico debacle, he hadn’t felt the need to be quite so soul killing towards Tony.

“Not that the Petrof is chopped liver. It’s a sweet baby, older than the Steinway. I can’t believe that it survived crossing the Atlantic and all these years here,” Tony shook his head. “It probably helps that it was kept in a climate controlled storage facility for the last fifty years or so. Yan is working with Jim and some other experts to figure out a way to install climate control to the piano room in the house, without affecting the whole historical site thing. I mean, either way, whichever one I choose to keep, an old piano will be kept there. So we’ll find a way to restore the house and keep the antique piano safe in it.”

“And the library too?” Gibbs asked.

Tony flashed him a grin. “Yeah, the library, too. I mean, I’m so happy that they’re trying to restore some of those books. Frankie had a bunch of antique books and some of those were still OK. I really don’t understand why they didn’t just box all of the books up and leave that in storage like they did the rest of the house.”

“I’m so excited to see this house of yours in person, Tony!” Abby exclaimed. “I looked at all the pictures on your table after you went to bed last night. You know me, I can’t keep my nose out of this stuff! And I’m so excited to hang out with you and the Bossman this week and help with the work.”

Tony gave her a small smile. “I appreciate it all, Abs.”

“I still can’t believe you tried to keep this a secret from me and Gibbs,” Abby pouted.

“I know,” Tony sighed.

“I’m sorry I crashed your party without your permission,” Abby gave him a hangdog look.

Tony sighed again and nodded.

Abby saw the expression on his face, and changed the subject. When they pulled up to the house, Gibbs stopped the car and Abby bounced out.

“Whooooaaaaaa!” she shrieked. “Holy fuck, Tony! This house is fucking _awesome_!”

“Right?” Tony’s eyes were bright and happy, and his smile was open and genuine.

“Show me around!” Abby hooked her arm into Tony’s and dragged him up to the door. Gibbs trailed the two of them as Tony unlocked the door and was dragged into the house forcibly by the force of Abby’s enthusiasm.

“Shhh,” he told her. “Let’s go say hi to Jim first before he freaks out that people are in the house when he specifically asked to be alone to work with the piano.”

“OK,” Abby nodded, eyes wide with excitement and clapping her hands.

Tony headed straight up the stairs and to the piano room from which they could hear soft sounds.

“Jim! It’s Tony!” he called out. He knocked on the door and opened it, peeking in gingerly. “Hey, Jim. I know we’re supposed to leave you alone on Sundays but I have a very special guest that needs a tour of the house. So just so you know, we’re here and don’t be mad, OK? I’ll try to show Abby the house as quickly as I can and then we’ll get out of your hair.”

“Mr Paddington,” came a voice, full of haughty disdain.

“It’s _Tony_ , Jim,” Tony opened the door wide and rolled his eyes at Gibbs. “Tony _DiNozzo_.”

The only reply was a snort. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony and the younger man grimaced in response.

Gibbs peered in and saw a small, sallow faced man with dark circles under his eyes. The piano was wide open and definitely being worked on. The piano cover was on the floor, exposing its innards. Several keys were on a workbench. Jim was obviously deep into his work.

Abby burst into the room and smiled at the slight man who was hunched over his workbench. “Wow! This looks amazing!”

“This is a work in progress. What was done to this piano was a travesty,” Jim responded severely.

“Jim, these are Abby and Gibbs. My… friends,” there was a slight hesitation there that made Gibbs’ heart clench.

Abby began chattering to Jim about the piano and the man responded softly. Nobody, no matter how grumpy and overworked they might be, could resist Abby’s charms. Within minutes, she had him eating out of her hands. He even allowed her to finger the keys of the piano, even though it wasn’t in tune yet and it wouldn’t be right for the old girl to be heard before she was ready. Yeah. That was the kind of thing that came out of Jim’s mouth. There was no way that this man wouldn’t get along with Abby with that kind of anthropomorphism of inanimate objects. Tony reverently ran his fingers over the piano keys but didn’t press down hard enough make a sound, just happy to be part of the process of restoring something that had been dear to his family.

Tony managed to drag Abby away after some time, and they began the grand tour of the house. Abby was her usual bubbly, enthusiastic self, and Gibbs could see that Tony was beginning to relax. It made him sad that whatever it was that had been happening at NCIS had made Tony so secretive and so worried about people’s reactions to something that he obviously loved. Abby was a balm to that in a way that Gibbs knew that he could never be. He followed along, nodding and grunting at appropriate times, enjoying the way Tony was now smiling when he described things about the house. There were times when Gibbs had to resist looking behind him, because the hairs on the back of his neck started prickling. Nothing but shadows, the one time he looked. He shook his head, blaming the whole guidebook on haunted houses thing and put it out of his mind, determined to enjoy this private tour of Tony’s ancestral home.

They walked outside and this time Tony showed them the other structures. There were stables, a barn, and some other out buildings. Nothing was being done with the external structures at this time, Tony told them. They were focusing all their efforts on restoring the main house first. But Yannick had plans for the external buildings, Tony told them. Abby stood by the lake and smiled, breathing in deeply.

“This house and the grounds are beautiful,” she told Tony, slipping her arm through his. “The forest, the lake, the house. I can understand why you’re trying to restore it all.”

“Thanks, Abs,” Tony leaned his cheek against Abby’s head.

“I can also see why people would think there’s something spooky about this place,” Abby continued. “I mean, it’s totally like that idyllic spot that has to be haunted or something.”

Tony sighed. “I guess.”

They stood there, facing the lake, appreciating the view in silence for a while before they got back in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you really hated how Abby splashed into this story, and I agree with you, she went way too far. So all I can say is, I needed to have Abby be in Roanoke because there's an image that I need to include to fulfill the artwork prompt. :) I figured this Tony wouldn't have freely invited Abby to Roanoke, given how isolated he's become from NCIS, so I made Abby track him down (which sadly, isn't even implausible, right?) :D
> 
> Also, there's so much I want to get to in the fic, so I didn't really get into too much detail about what Tony said to Abby and Gibbs regarding their invasion of privacy. jesco0307, I heard your comments and tried to be less cavalier with Abby, so hopefully it's not as egregious now. But honestly I wanted to get to the action! :D
> 
> Sorry this chapter wasn't super exciting. Next chapter should be pretty fun ;) Until tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of action in this chapter. Also, I'd like to direct your attention to the artwork at the top of the chapter, and also the artwork prompt from last year for clues of the scene that takes place in this chapter ;)

[](https://i.imgur.com/wA0ZvVT.jpg)

Predictably, Tony fell asleep on the drive back to the apartment. Gibbs hustled him back into the apartment and settled him in the bed while Abby went grocery shopping. Tony tried to sleepwalk out of the apartment while Abby was out, so Gibbs herded him back up the stairs and into bed, staying with him. He’d brought a book with him and since it was still daylight and he wasn’t particularly sleepy himself, he sat up against the headboard with his book, letting the sleeping Tony sprawl in his lap. Even though Gibbs wasn’t physically holding him down, just idly running his fingers through Tony’s hair, it seemed to be enough to keep Tony in the bed.

Gibbs sighed, staring into Tony’s sleeping face. He was starting to look better – less pale, less bone weary, but there were still those disturbingly dark circles under his eyes. Gibbs would be relieved once Doctor Foster figured out what was going on with his second, because he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to take the exquisite torture of being the lucky one to have to be in the bed with Tony to allow him to sleep. His self-control was definitely being challenged by this, especially like this, with Tony boneless in his lap and Gibbs wide awake and able to just look at him. Will power would only take him so far.

When Abby returned, she came up the stairs and gave Gibbs a concerned look.

“Did he try to run off?” she asked him.

Gibbs nodded.

Abby sighed and tiptoed over to the bed. She gingerly sat down and began petting Tony. He frowned and pouted in his sleep before burying his face practically in Gibbs’ crotch in what could be construed as an effort to move away from Abby’s touch. She kissed his cheek and dropped a kiss on Gibbs’ forehead as she stood.

“I’ll get dinner started,” she said gloomily before disappearing down the stairs.

They were just sitting down to dinner, Tony rumpled and sleepy, sitting wrapped in a blanket at the counter when there was a knock on the door. Abby opened it to Yannick. Apparently, whenever Tony was in Roanoke over a Sunday, they had a standing dinner date.

“He’s not in any shape to go out tonight,” Abby ushered him in and shut the door behind him. “Look for yourself.”

Yannick gave Tony a smile, and Tony returned it sleepily. “Hey, man. Are you awake?”

Tony blinked and yawned, before he nodded.

“He probably isn’t, really,” Abby whispered to Yannick. “Gibbs brought him to work and parked him on the futon in my lab last week, and he doesn’t even remember being there.”

Yannick’s eyes clouded with worry.

“Don’t worry, Yan,” Abby took his arm and steered him to the counter. “He’s got all of us to help him through this. Join us for dinner. I made plenty of food.”

Gibbs nodded to the other man, grabbing a beer from the fridge and handing it to him. Abby ladled another bowl of gumbo over rice and put that in front of Yannick.

“Eat,” Gibbs barked at Tony.

“On it, Boss,” Tony mumbled, picking up his spoon.

Yannick gave Gibbs a surprised look.

“The Boss is grumpy on the outside, but he’s a teddy bear on the inside,” Abby mock-whispered to him.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, but he still made sure that Tony ate at least half of his food. Afterwards, he herded Tony back up to bed. He ensured that Tony was tucked in before he went back downstairs and hung out with Abby and Yannick for the rest of the evening.

That was pretty much the way the week went. Gibbs and Abby started helping out at the house, both of them having enough expertise in construction, and Gibbs in carpentry to be of use to the workers. Gibbs wasn’t entirely sure, but he suspected that Yannick must have spoken to the other workers about ensuring that Tony didn’t work too hard, or was given power tools or any other dangerous tools to work with for the time being. But they kept him busy with other chores. Everyone seemed to understand that Tony needed to be involved with and put his own elbow grease into the work of restoring the house, and it seemed like Tony had somehow surrounded himself with people willing to help him do it.

There was such a feeling of camaraderie with everyone working on the house. They included Gibbs and Abby in their group without issues, and the feeling of togetherness was so strong they almost always ate together. Sometimes Serena turned up with food for everyone during the day. Sometimes Tony sprung for pizza or something. And sometimes Abby, Tony and Gibbs would go out to lunch with one or more of the people working on his house. There seemed to be none of the usual barriers between the owner of the house and the people working on it. Gibbs personally worked with a few men who seemed to be genuinely fond of Tony, and happy to slow down their own work in order to help Tony out.

Gibbs hadn’t seen Tony so happy to be doing manual labor in well, ever. It was refreshing. But sometimes, if they stayed at the house after dark, Gibbs could feel the hair on his arm standing and would look around. He felt like he was being watched, but when he looked, there was no one there. Gibbs wasn’t fanciful, it was a defense mechanism borne of years of being a sniper that he absolutely _knew_ when he was being watched. It bothered him. When the shadows started to lengthen and the sun was setting, he began to feel that prickly feeling at the back of his neck and his gut would churn.

He tried to ignore it. After all, what could his gut be churning about? There were a bunch of them working on a house. Nobody in their right mind would be trying to break in and steal anything while they were all obviously still there, and besides there was nothing in the house to steal. Everyone packed up their things and took their tools away at night. There wasn’t any copper wiring left untended. Tony had had the house rewired with modern, insulated aluminum wiring. And besides, apparently the house had a certain reputation – it had appeared in a haunted landmarks of Roanoke guidebook after all – and nobody dared to trespass. Besides, the house was making Tony so happy. Gibbs knew that if he expressed any misgivings or doubts, Tony wouldn’t take it well. So he kept it quiet, even if he became extra vigilant in the house when it got dark.

If Tony wasn’t too tired or at least was fully awake, they would go out to dinner with Yannick. And if he fell asleep on the way there, then they would get takeout and just eat it at Tony’s apartment. Gibbs found himself liking Yannick, despite his earlier misgivings and his jealousy of him. Yannick was a good man, knowledgeable, and friendly, and genuine. Gibbs wanted to hate him for how much Tony seemed to enjoy his company, but even then, he couldn’t do it. Tony deserved a good friend, or whatever Yan was, and Yannick was quite fond of Tony. So Gibbs held his tongue.

The week flew by quickly in this fashion. They were planning to head back to DC on Sunday, so it was a good few days that Tony got to spend in Roanoke, which visibly made him happy. On Saturday morning, Gibbs stayed in bed, letting Tony sleep in because he did need it. Gibbs sat up and read, but kept his hand on Tony, who was curled up, mostly on his lap again, letting Tony wake up on his own time. The younger man was starting to look much better, now that he was actually sleeping and getting through his sleep cycles normally for going on two weeks.

They worked on the house again that day, although Yannick and Tony took Abby and Gibbs to the storage units where everything had been categorized and had been left there awaiting the completion of the work on the house. It was amazing what they had found. Gibbs found himself running his calloused fingers over some of the beautiful antique furniture. Abby found herself oohing and aahing at the paintings Tony showed them.

“Some of these are really valuable, Tony,” Abby said reverently.

“I might loan some of these out to the local art museum here,” Tony nodded. “Yan will look into that for me.”

“That would be so awesome!” Abby agreed.

And that night, since Tony had slept in, he seemed to have quite a bit of energy. Abby talked him, Yannick and a few of the people she had befriended over their week there into going out dancing with her. After the mandatory weekly dinner at Ms Rousseau’s, of course.

Gibbs scowled at her when she tried to convince him to come with them.

“Pleeeease, Bossman!” she begged.

Gibbs’ scowl deepened.

“Come on! Pleeeeeeeeease?”

Gibbs huffed a breath. “No. I’m not going. I don’t think Tony should go, either.”

“You can come and make sure he’s fine, right Tony?”

Tony made a face. “I think the world will just explode if Gibbs goes clubbing, Abs.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and glared at Yannick. “Make sure these two are OK tonight?” he asked him.

Yannick grinned easily. “Always. I’ll be the designated driver.”

Gibbs was sitting on the couch when Tony and Abby came down the spiral staircase, giggling conspiratorially. Tony hadn’t been expecting to go clubbing so he didn’t have ‘proper clubbing clothes’, whatever the hell that meant, so he had made do with the tightest black jeans known to mankind, a tight, earth brown t-shirt with some design or whatever in black on it, and a brown leather jacket. Abby was baring miles of her pale midriff with a lacy looking brown shirt that was both low cut and tied under her breasts. Her pants were black and tight, and had some weird cutout things that again, showed off more of her porcelain skin. Her hair was in some kind of upswept do, enhancing the long, pale line of her neck.

Gibbs shook his head. She’d better not be bringing home guys, not when they were all sharing one apartment. And she’d better not be going home with some random stranger, because she was supposed to be looking out for Tony tonight. He’d already given her a serious talk about the fact that he was trusting her to take care of Tony without him being there and she’d given him her solemn promise that she would.

Gibbs tried not to stare too much at Tony. He wasn’t even completely dressed up, but still Gibbs found him electrifying. He looked really good. More than really good. Sexy was the word that came to Gibbs’ mind. The brown t-shirt hugged his chest in all the right places and drew Gibbs’ eyes.

When Abby surreptitiously poked Gibbs and made faces at him, presumably to try to get him to make a move on the younger man, he rolled his eyes and pointedly turned away. Abby blew out a breath and rolled her eyes in exasperation, but held her tongue. Luckily for Gibbs, Yannick knocked on the door to pick them up right after that and they left before Gibbs could do anything that might have revealed too much about his feelings towards Tony. Or remind him not to drink, as if he were Tony’s parent or something. Because if it was one thing Gibbs did not feel for Tony, it was in any way paternal.

He found himself sitting in Tony’s apartment, alone for the first time in too many days, yet unable to relax. He had gotten too used to watching Tony, and ensuring his safety. It was difficult to move away from that mindset. He tried to read, knowing that he needed to relax and do something to pass the time. But it was useless. Time crawled for him as he sat by himself, surrounded by Tony’s things, the smell of Tony’s aftershave lingering in the air.

Gibbs impatiently waited until after last call was over and they hadn’t come home before he called Abby. He didn’t want to be overbearing to either her or Tony. After all they were adults, but when he called, there was no answer. He called Tony’s phone with the same results. Trying not to worry, he called Yannick next.

“Yeah?” Yannick answered on the third ring, sounding tired.

“Are you still at the club?” Gibbs asked without preamble.

“Gibbs?”

“Yeah.”

“No?” Yannick sounded confused. “I dropped them off… oh, an hour ago?”

“They’re not home yet.”

“What? I dropped them off and I waited to see them both go into the building!”

“Were they drunk?” Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge and keys.

“No! Tony had nothing alcoholic, and Abby only drank one girly drink of some sort. I know Tony isn’t supposed to drink so he had nothing he wasn’t supposed to. I made sure of it.”

Gibbs grunted his thanks. “I’m gonna check the building first, see if maybe they just didn’t make it up here for whatever half baked reason that they might have.”

“Is Abby’s car still there?”

That was a good question. Gibbs ran down the stairs and out the building. Abby’s hearse was nowhere to be seen and he knew she’d parked in Tony’s spot. Still, he scanned the parking lot quickly to be certain.

“Abby’s car is gone,” he told Yannick.

“Why would she have driven them away?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go back to the club, in case they went back because they left something behind or something.”

“OK. Where else does Tony hang out while he’s out here with you?”

“Mostly the house, his apartment, my mother’s, and we go out to eat sometimes. That’s about it. My mother would call if they’re there this late.”

Gibbs frowned. None of the restaurants would probably be open at this hour so that was unlikely. Plus Abby and Tony would have come and got him if they wanted to go out to eat, given they had been in the building at the time. “Would they go back to the house at this hour?” he asked.

“Why would they?” Yannick sounded genuinely confused at the suggestion.

“I don’t know but I’m headed out that way. You check out the club.”

Yannick sighed. “Be careful.”

“Call if you find them.”

“You too.”

Gibbs hung up and threw himself into his car, peeling out of the parking lot and speeding towards Paddington House. His heart was pounding with fear and worry. Why the hell had Abby decided to drive them anywhere at all? They’d been in the building and they left without telling him? What the fuck was that? He kept dialing both their numbers, and it always went to voicemail. Not for the first time, he wished that he could just track their phones as easily as they seemed to track other people, but Gibbs and technology, they weren’t really friends. So he focused on the road and drove as fast as he could.

When he arrived at Paddington House, he couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine. It was dark and spooky. But a few lights were on in the house and he was sure that they had turned all the lights off before they left earlier that day. Abby’s hearse was parked crookedly at the side of the house.

He dialed Yannick. “They’re here. Some of the lights are on,” he tried the front door. “Front door is unlocked.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gibbs went through the house, yelling for Abby and Tony, but no one was in the house. He realized that the back door was ajar and his heart began pounding. The lake was back there. Tony had that obsession with going to the lake when he was sleepwalking! What if Abby was trying to stop him from drowning?

He rushed out and saw two dark figures at the edge of the lake, not far from the dock. It was both Abby and Tony, but Tony was kneeling on the ground, looking up adoringly at Abby, and she had a hand on his chin, with a cruel looking smirk on her face.

“Abby! _Abby_!” he yelled. “What the hell is going on? What the fuck, Abs?”

Neither of them responded, as if they hadn’t even heard him or seen him.

“Do you hear the music?” Gibbs heard Tony say dreamily. “It’s beautiful.”

“Go in the lake,” Abby commanded him. “Follow the music.”

Gibbs was still running towards them when he saw them both start to wade into the water.

“ _No_!!!” he screamed, putting on a burst of speed. They were up to their knees in water when he wrapped an arm around Abby’s middle and threw her roughly back to the shore, and he struggled to yank Tony back with them. Tony continued to try to keep moving deeper and he was forced to divide his attention to keeping them both from getting in further. Gibbs fought them for who knew how long, as they both kept trying to walk back into the lake, ignoring him as he yelled out their names, until Yannick arrived and between him and Gibbs they managed to corral both Tony and Abby and force them both back to the shore.

Abby finally seemed to come back to herself when Gibbs slapped her face. “Gibbs?” she asked, confused.

“You with me?” Gibbs asked.

She nodded. “What’s going on?” she frowned.

“I don’t know,” Gibbs said grimly.

“Where are we?”

“Paddington House.”

“What? Why are we here at night?” Abby looked around in confusion.

“I don’t know. You weren’t responding to me. But you drove yourself and Tony here.”

She looked thoroughly discombobulated, and when she stood, she wailed that her shoes were ruined. Tony was once again in that disturbing state of compliance that was practically zombie-like, and if released he would head towards the water. Yannick was trying to wake him up.

“He’s not going to wake up,” Gibbs shook his head. “Let’s just get him back to the apartment and back to bed,” he finally said, grabbing Abby’s arm and herding her back to the house. Yannick had his arm around Tony and was speaking softly to him, dragging him along with him. Gibbs felt that prickle on the back of his neck again after Yannick and Tony had gone inside and he was ushering Abby in ahead of him. He spun, blue eyes sharp and focused, already used to the darkness.

There, beyond the lake, at the tree line of the encroaching forest, was a figure. If Gibbs were the fanciful type, he would have described it as a figure in a black cloak, with silver hair and silver face, dark, dark eyes boring into him. But Gibbs wasn’t fanciful. It was an unknown subject dressed in dark clothing – all the better to hide in the shadows and _watch_ them. He’d felt eyes on him all fucking week. He pulled his gun out and growled at it.

In the distance, the figure’s eyes started to shine red in the darkness, before it pulled up a dark hood, covering the startling lightness of its hair, and then, right as Gibbs was about to run towards it, it just disappeared. Into thin air. Gibbs looked around, breaths coming quickly as he realized that the thing – the man, whatever the hell it was that could have had glowing red eyes – was no longer there. He couldn’t feel eyes on him anymore.

“Gibbs?” Abby was looking at him from the back door. “You coming?”

“Something… someone was out here,” Gibbs said grimly, treading backwards, eyes still peeled, trying to spot the thing, gun still out at the ready. “ _Watching_ us.”

Abby shuddered. “Can we go, please? My shoes are sopping wet and I’m getting cold,” she whined, although when Gibbs turned to look at her, he could see the anxiety in her eyes.

He gave another good look around the area before he backed himself towards the door. He had to admit that he felt a whole lot better after closing and locking that back door. They found Yannick in the foyer, still holding on to Tony, who kept mumbling about the music and the lake. The usual crap. It should probably bother Gibbs that he was getting used to Tony’s whole mumbo jumbo sleepwalking thing, but right now he was much more freaked out about the fact that there was something with glowing red eyes out there watching them. And Tony and Abby had both tried to go into the lake for no apparent reason.

Gibbs scrubbed his face. What the ever living hell was going on here? He didn’t want Yannick and Tony to go out there alone. He didn’t want anyone driving alone now that someone was watching the house.

“There was somebody out back,” Gibbs told Yannick. “Stay behind me, all of you. Yannick, you and Tony stick close behind me. Abs, you lock the door behind you and bring up the rear. Keep close together. We’re all going to get in Yannick’s car and drive back to Tony’s apartment together. We can come get our cars in the morning.” When it was daylight, Gibbs thought.

Abby nodded, taking Tony’s keys from his sodden pocket.

“Everybody ready?” Gibbs asked.

Yannick looked a little pale, but he nodded determinedly. Abby saluted him, trying to grin. Gibbs pulled Tony’s backup piece off his ankle – Tony had elected to leave his main service weapon to go out dancing – and handed that to Abby. She flicked off the safety and kept the barrel down, although she was ready for action. She hadn’t been handling ballistics for NCIS investigations for years without learning a thing or two about guns.

Gibbs carefully opened the front door and scanned the area, doing what he could without night vision goggles, before he stepped out and jerked his head, signaling to his crew to move. Yannick kept his arm around Tony and dragged him along. They gave Abby a moment to lock the doors behind her, and then they walked towards Yannick’s SUV. Gibbs covered them while Abby pushed Tony into the back seat and got in beside him. Yannick closed the back door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Gibbs backed into the passenger’s seat, and wound the window down before shutting the door. He nodded to Yannick, who put the car into gear, and began driving away from the house. Gibbs was keeping his eyes peeled, but still could see nothing.

It was just right before they turned away from the house that he thought he saw movement in the trees. He stared at the spot, weapon still ready. He saw that same hooded figure, eyes glowing red again, watching them from the trees.

“Fuck! Do you see him?” Gibbs pointed. He wished he had enough justification to fire his weapon but nothing had actually happened yet and he couldn’t just fire blindly into the woods, especially if that was just some innocent hunter or something.

Abby gasped. She’d seen it, too. Yannick kept his eyes on the road, speeding around the bend and towards the city as quickly as he could.

“How’d he get there so fast?” Gibbs frowned and kept looking behind him.

“Gibbs, I don’t think that was _human_!” Abby wailed. “I really don’t think it was! Did you see its _eyes_?”

Yannick gave Gibbs a worried look.

“Keep driving,” Gibbs told him. “Let’s get everyone to safety first.”

Yannick nodded and the car sped up.

When they were all back in Tony’s apartment, Gibbs ordered Abby to make coffee while he gently steered Tony up the stairs, stripped him of his wet clothes, and helped ready him for bed. Luckily, Tony seemed to collapse into a heap, letting Gibbs pull up the covers and tuck him in. He would stay put for a little bit, hopefully.

Gibbs ran downstairs where Abby and Yannick were sitting on the couch, drinking coffee.

“We should call the cops and let them know there’s a possible intruder lurking in the woods by the Paddington House,” Gibbs told them as he stalked towards the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee.

“They’ll think it’s a prank call,” Yannick rubbed his face. “Kids do that shit all the time. That house has a certain… reputation.”

“That was _not_ a human being that was looking at us, anyway,” Abby shivered. “No human being has eyes that glow red in the dark.”

“Abs,” Gibbs said sternly.

“Well, stories say that something is in those woods. Something is in that house,” Yannick shrugged. “I never believed any of it, but I also never drove by the house or those woods at two in the morning.”

“What the hell were you doing out there with Tony?” Gibbs rounded on Abby.

“I don’t know!” Abby pouted. “I mean, I remember Yan dropping us off, and I told him I’d get Tony home. Tony was tired. I remember going in the doorway. I think we were going up the stairs when Tony told me I needed to get him home. And I told him OK. And then… I don’t know? It’s fuzzy. I guess… I must’ve, right? I drove him to the house?”

“You don’t remember?” Yannick asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t think I was roofied or anything. I mean, I wouldn’t have just lost a couple hours of memory.”

“What else do you remember?” Gibbs asked.

“I don’t know? Music? Piano music. I remember that. And I know that I was pleased that I had brought Tony home. And then… and then… my shoes are wet and you’re pulling me and Tony out of the lake?”

What the fuck was going on here? Gibbs wondered. He had no idea.

“Alright,” he hugged Abby. “Go get ready for bed. Sleep in the bed with Tony. I’ll keep watch. Yannick, you can have the couch. I’ll find some extra clothes you can sleep in.”

“I could just go home?” Yannick offered.

“I’d rather not have you go out there alone tonight.”

Yannick gave him a long look before he nodded. Gibbs was glad that he was listening to reason because he didn’t want to be responsible should something happen to Yannick tonight. What if that guy that had been watching them followed them here? No. Nobody was to leave the apartment alone that night. And Gibbs was going to sit on the bed and keep awake, and keep a hold of Tony to ensure that the man got some proper sleep. He went and refilled his coffee as Abby and Yannick got ready for bed. He was in for a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per Lisa: (in old-time radio show voice) "Tune in Tomorrow for our Next Exciting Installment!" 😁😁


	5. Chapter 5

[](https://i.imgur.com/g4BjvEr.jpg)

In the morning, by the time Tony shuffled downstairs, yawning and scratching his belly as he went straight for the coffee, Gibbs was already making pancakes.

“No coffee, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled at him.

“Oh, right,” he sniffed, sighing loudly.

“I made you hot chocolate,” Gibbs nodded to the small pan on the stove where he had heated up milk and melted chocolate into it, and kept it warm for Tony.

“Thanks, Boss!” Tony’s smile lit up the room, and the darkest recesses of Gibbs’ soul.

He grunted, pretending to ignore it and continuing to tend to the pancakes while Tony poured himself a mug of chocolate.

“Why’s Abby in my bed?” Tony asked, smiling sleepily at his boss.

Gibbs jerked his chin towards the couch, and Tony turned, seeing the still-sleeping figure of Yannick on it.

“What’s Yan doing here?” his eyes were wide. “Was I sleep-dancing last night?” he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t remember much except we were dancing for a long time.”

“You don’t remember anything else? No music? No weird dreams?”

“There _was_ music, Gibbs. It was loud. Had a strong, danceable beat. Deafening. You’d have hated it,” Tony shuffled his feet and shook his hips, demonstrating his dance moves, making Gibbs’ heart stutter for a moment, wondering what it would feel like if those hips were to rut up against him.

“Nothing else?”

Tony shook his head. “Why? Did something happen?” he sounded curious, more than anything else.

“Let’s wait for everyone to wake up.”

“Sounds serious?”

“Kind of.”

“Is it a ‘Get my service weapon’ serious?”

Gibbs shrugged and refused to say anything else until Abby and Yannick were drawn to the kitchen by the smells of the pancakes and bacon that Gibbs was preparing. They needed to use up the bacon anyway because they were still leaving to go back to DC that day. There would be no arguments about it. Especially now after what had happened the previous night. Gibbs wanted to get both Abby and Tony the fuck out of Roanoke before anything else could happen.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked again when everyone had a stack of pancakes and bacon in front of them. Except no bacon for Abby, of course.

“You were sleepwalking into the lake at Paddington House last night,” Gibbs told him bluntly.

“What?” Tony sputtered.

“ _Into_ the lake, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said grimly. “Abs too. I had to keep you from drowning yourselves. Yannick came and helped me stop you both from sleep drowning yourselves. And someone was watching us the entire time this was happening.”

“ _What_?” Tony exclaimed again.

“It wasn’t a some _one_ ,” Abby shuddered. “It was a some _thing_.”

“Abs,” Gibbs said tiredly.

“It had glowing red eyes, Gibbs. You know that. You saw it too.”

“A thing with red eyes…” Tony started.

“ _Glowing_ red eyes,” Abby interjected.

“Glowing red eyes?” Tony raised his eyebrows, giving Yannick a look, tacitly asking for confirmation.

“I was too focused on driving us the hell out of there to look at the thing,” Yannick told him.

“I did see someone watching us when we were going back in the house. You were still trying to get into the lake,” Gibbs told him.

“Gibbs gave me your backup weapon, just in case,” Abby told Tony. “I was bringing up the rear. Gibbs had point, and Yan was getting you in the car.”

“ _What_?”

“ _After_ we stopped you from trying to drown yourself in that fucking lake,” Gibbs growled. “Managed to wake Abby up, but not you.”

“Whoa…”

There was a period of silence and only Gibbs continued to eat.

“What’s going on?” Tony muttered to himself.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think anyone should go back to the house alone. Maybe have the cops check around the area first,” Gibbs said grimly.

“I’ll call Vic and see if she can do me a solid,” Tony said.

Gibbs gave Tony a questioning look.

“Roanoke PD. She hooked me up with the files from my Cousin Frankie’s whole… thing. And she’s come to see the house a few times to check our progress. Nice chick. Good detective,” Tony supplied.

“OK,” Gibbs nodded. “Then we need to get our cars and leave. Yannick, don’t let anyone go out there alone until we can clear this up.”

Yannick nodded solemnly.

That afternoon, after Tony had cajoled his detective buddy to send patrol cars out to the house, and Abby and Gibbs bummed a ride there in the back of a cruiser, they got their cars back and drove back to DC. Of course the cops found no one there, nor were there any traces of anyone lurking in the woods. No cigarette butts, no footprints. Nothing. Gibbs didn’t like just leaving the area, but he also needed to get Tony and Abby away from the danger, and right now, drowning in the lake at Paddington House seemed like the most immediate danger. He could deal with unknown strangers, whether they were human or not. He had his Glock and several sharp knives to deal with that. But Tony sleepwalking and drowning himself in the lake? That he couldn’t deal with. Besides, Tony had another doctor’s appointment on Tuesday and Abby had to get back to work.

Despite the lack of sleep, Gibbs was wide awake on the drive back, probably running on an adrenalin high, and ensured that Abby’s car remained in his rear view mirror at all times. Predictably, Tony fell asleep in his car soon after they got on the highway.

Gibbs snuck glances at the sleeping figure and sighed. He was still so out of it. Still falling asleep on a dime. Still fucking sleepwalking. And now that Gibbs knew that Tony would actually go into a lake if he was near one, there was no way he was going to leave the man to his own devices.

But Vance was starting to make noise about both senior members of the MCRT taking time off at the same time. So Gibbs would have to start going back to work at least part time. He couldn’t leave Tony at home alone – who knew where he might end up, so the next day he allowed Tony to go back to work with him, but refused to let the team take new and active cases. Gibbs didn’t want to get called out on a case, and since Tony was technically on medical leave, his second would be left unattended at work where he could get into all kinds of trouble if he started sleepwalking there.

Gibbs had a loud argument with Vance about keeping the team off active cases, difficult to do without telling the director about Tony’s condition. Gibbs knew that if he did that, not would would Tony never forgive him, but it would also definitely be Tony’s one way ticket out of NCIS courtesy of Leon Vance. Tony still had a contentious relationship with Vance. Tony hadn’t forgiven him for sending him afloat, and Vance still harbored undue suspicion towards him, something that had started when he’d come in to investigate the La Grenouille murder. But there was no way Gibbs was going to chance letting Tony go at this point, not with the whole walking into the lake in his sleep thing. So Gibbs strong armed Vance into shutting up by pointing out that he could just take the months of time off he’d accrued over the years to do what he needed to do, and at this point, this was all Gibbs could give him and Vance had no choice but to take what he could get.

And after that fun discussion, he came down to the bullpen to see both McGee and Ziva pestering Tony about what the hell was wrong with him that he needed all this time off and Gibbs to babysit him. Tony was trying to deflect, but Gibbs could see that he was becoming uncharacteristically flustered.

Give the man a chance, Gibbs mentally told the two bugging Tony. He’s trying to get over weeks of sleep deprivation. But he couldn’t tell them this, so Gibbs growled at the two junior members of his team and gave them an ultimatum – the next person to bug Tony about anything would be thrown off the team. McGee eeped quietly and Ziva nodded, eyes flashing. Gibbs was not joking about this and she could tell.

So the team was assigned to quietly work cold cases – even Tony. But after lunch, Tony started fading, his eyelids looking heavy, so Gibbs sent him down to Abby’s lab for a nap with a glare. He scowled at Ziva and McGee, daring them to say anything as Tony meekly obeyed. He forbade them from going down to the lab as long as Tony was down there, and they sat at their desks looking unhappy at the unexpected turn of events.

Tony ended up staying at the lab for the rest of the afternoon. Abby called up every time Tony started having an episode and Gibbs would come down and soothe him back to sleep before he went back up to the bullpen. That evening after work, Abby and Ducky both came over to have dinner with him and Tony.

Tony was scheduled for a bunch more tests the following day, as well as an overnight at the sleep clinic so Gibbs chose not go in to work either, electing to stay with Tony and accompany him through the barrage of tests. Tony rolled his eyes but kept his whining to a minimum. As before, Gibbs stayed for the overnight to observe and as before, Tony did not respond well to the new medication that Doctor Foster wanted to try.

It was mid-morning on Wednesday and Tony was grumpy after a terrible night and a bad reaction to the new medication when he got the call.

“DiNozzo,” Tony’s greeting was curt as he and Gibbs were walking out of the hospital after the overnight. “Oh, hey Vic. How’s it going? No, man, I’m in DC. We left Roanoke on Sunday after you guys took that look around my house? _What_? No! What the hell…?”

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs barked.

“Hold on, let me put you on speaker. My boss is here. Gibbs, they found Jim in the lake behind the house,” Tony sounded shocked. “He’s dead.”

“Jim? The piano guy?” Gibbs asked.

“Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo, I’m afraid it’s true. James Vaughan was found in the lake behind Paddington House this morning,” Velasquez continued. “Workers saw something in the lake and went to investigate, which was how Jim was found.”

“Signs of foul play?” Gibbs asked.

“None. They’re doing the autopsy now, but preliminary cause of death was drowning.”

“Shit!” Tony rubbed his eyes. “I _told_ him not to work last Sunday, after all that stuff happened Saturday night. I _told_ him it wasn’t safe to be alone at the house until things were sorted out. What’s the estimated time of death?”

“Can you account for your whereabouts over the weekend, Agents?” Vic asked carefully.

Gibbs sighed. Velasquez couldn’t give them that information until she could eliminate them off the list of suspects. Tony gave him a tired look. He’d gotten the same message too.

“Gibbs, Abby and I worked on the house on Saturday, like I always do if I’m in town. Dinner at Ms Rousseau’s that night. Abby talked Yannick and me and a bunch of the guys to go out clubbing Saturday night. Yan picked Abby and me up maybe around 10:30 that night? I don’t know when he dropped us off – that part’s hazy. I really only remember waking up the next morning in my apartment where Gibbs, Abby and Yan were all there. But I’ve, uh, been losing time and having sleep issues lately so the not remembering part seems to be something that happens to me pretty often these days,” Tony shrugged.

“Were you drinking?”

“Nope. Doctor’s orders. No alcohol. No caffeine. No work. Nothing until the sleep related issues are resolved.”

“OK. So what happened the next morning?”

“Then we called you about the whole intruder watching us thing that both Gibbs and Abby saw, waited for you and your people to clear the area, before we drove home to DC. Gibbs drove me in his car, and Abby was right behind us the entire way.”

“Agent Gibbs? What about you?”

Gibbs recounted his own version of the events of the weekend, ending also with driving home with Tony and Abby right behind him the entire way. They had all been at work on Monday, and Gibbs and Tony at the hospital since Tuesday.

“The hospital?” Vic asked.

“Stupid tests to figure out this whole sleep issue thingy,” Tony waved it away.

Vic sighed. “It’s a mess, Tony,” she finally said. “TOD is estimated to be Monday night sometime. No signs of a struggle. No signs that he was forced. He walked in to the lake and drowned himself, is the current theory.”

“Was he weighed down?”

“No.”

“But no signs of a struggle or foul play?”

“Nope.”

“Tox screen?”

“Still waiting on that.”

“So it could be… Kind of like…?” Tony asked cryptically.

“Maybe. I don’t like to speculate,” Velasquez sighed.

What the hell were they talking about now? Gibbs wondered.

“But _Monday_ night? What the hell was Jim even doing at the house on a Monday? He explicitly asked to do his work on Sundays and for us to keep everyone the hell out of the house while he worked. He was kind of a prima donna about it, but he did amazing work so we gave him whatever he wanted. So why was he there on Monday? And at night? Besides, no one was supposed to be there alone anymore, until we figure out what the hell is going on with the folks casing the house or whatever!” Tony ranted. “And why the hell would he drown himself? Has he been depressed or something?”

“We don’t know about his mental condition. Vaughan lived alone, so there’s no one we can question on his end. We’ll keep canvassing and trying to understand his mindset while the ME does the autopsy. How much interaction did you have with Vaughan?”

“Very little after he told me to get out and let him work in peace,” Tony shrugged. “But he’s the best and I knew going in what his MO was, so I expected it.”

Velasquez hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll keep digging into him,” she finally murmured. “Will I see you back in Roanoke soon?”

“I’ll be there tonight,” Tony told her.

“We’ll be there _tomorrow_ ,” Gibbs countered him. “You need to rest today.”

“You OK, DiNozzzo?” Vic was concerned.

“I’m fucking _fine_ , OK?” Tony snapped. 

“Tomorrow,” Gibbs’ tone brooked no arguments. They all needed a good night’s sleep before making the drive back to Roanoke.

“Tomorrow’s good,” Vic told them.

“I don’t understand why Jim ended up in the lake,” Tony rubbed his eyes.

“At least he didn’t shoot a bunch of people first before…” Vic blew out a breath.

“What?” Gibbs was surprised.

“Oh, yeah. Remember my Cousin Frankie? Yeah, he shot or stabbed everyone in the house to death, wife, kids, the house staff, and then he drowned himself in the lake behind the house,” Tony said wryly. “Abs and I talked about this last week. It’s how the last of the Paddingtons in America died. Before my mom married my dad and had me, I mean. Weren’t you listening to us?”

Apparently, Gibbs _really_ hadn’t been paying attention to the details of Paddington House’s backstory.

“And now Jim’s gone and drowned himself in the same lake, and me and Yannick had to forcibly stop you and Abby from trying to do this on Saturday night?” Gibbs growled. Apparently he needed to really be paying attention to the details of the Paddington House’s backstory.

“Looks like it,” Vic agreed. “Hey, I have to go. Call me when you get in tomorrow. We’ll need a formal statement from the both of you. And Abby, too. But I can do hers over the phone if she can’t come in person.”

“Will do. Later, Vic.”

After Tony ended the call, Gibbs stared at him.

“What?” Tony asked.

“So you’ve been going on and on about the lake while you’re sleepwalking, and your cousin drowned himself in that lake? The one that’s right behind your ancestral house?” Gibbs threw up his hands. “You don’t see the connection?”

“I’m not going to stab my wife and kids and shoot whoever the hell else, and then drown myself,” Tony said grimly.

“Something’s not right here, DiNozzo.”

“Well. Obviously.”

“Ask Velasquez for your cousin’s case files.”

“I have them. They’re in the trunk of my car right now.”

“I need to see them. Let’s go get them.”

Gibbs spent the rest of the day at his house, poring over the box of files with Tony. After work, Abby came over and they all looked through the files again.

“And Veronique Cloutier?” Gibbs asked.

“That’s Yan’s Nana,” Tony nodded.

“She found them.”

Tony nodded again.

“What are we missing?” Abby frowned. “What’s causing people to go into fugue states, go on murdering rampages and drown themselves?”

“You’re assuming that that’s what happened,” Gibbs frowned.

“You’re assuming it’s all connected,” Tony huffed at the same time.

“That thing in the woods was not human, Gibbs,” Abby insisted. “I’m from New Orleans. I know these things. That was not a human being. That was a-a-a _thing_. I don’t know what the hell that was, but it’s _not_ one of us. There’s no way this isn’t all connected somehow.”

Tony was staring at a picture of one of the children’s rooms. Staring at one of the dead children.

“Who are you looking at?” Abby nudged him.

“That’s Samuel,” Tony pointed him out. Lying there. Dead. Gibbs’ gut twisted as he flashed to Kelly again, also dead.

“He was three when it happened,” Tony continued. “He’s the one Nana says I look like. She calls me Samuel sometimes, like he actually lived and grew up.”

Abby looked at one of the black and whites of the family portrait, making thoughtful noises. “Yeah, I can see how she might think you were Samuel all grown up,” she nodded. “This picture is cool,” she showed Gibbs and Tony a black and white picture of the side view of a woman in a bridal gown, veil floating in the air, long skirt fluffed artfully around her. She stood on some kind of balcony or alcove, with windows in the background. “Who is that?”

“Not sure how that got in there,” Tony frowned. “That’s my mom on her wedding day.”

Abby sighed. Gibbs stared at the picture. It had such an air of melancholy to it. As if Elizabeth Paddington had known what she was yoking herself to, and that he would never give her a happy life. God knew that Tony hadn’t had a happy childhood, especially after his mother’s death. Such sadness surrounding Tony’s childhood.

“Besides, maybe Jim was on something,” Tony cleared his throat and picked up the earlier thread. “Maybe he was drunk or high on something and that’s why he drowned.”

“We should wait for the tox screen to come back,” Gibbs muttered.

“It’s not connected. It’s just a weird coincidence,” Tony stated firmly.

“The guidebook says that the Paddington family was cursed,” Abby insisted.

Tony snorted with derision. “I don’t believe any of that crap.”

“I agree,” Abby nodded.

“What?” Tony looked at her in surprise, and Gibbs gave a surprised look as well. If anyone was ever going to believe in curses, it would be Abby. “Then why are we even talking about this?”

“I said, I don’t believe that the _family_ was cursed. Not that I don’t believe in curses or that I don’t think that there’s something, maybe a curse, at work here.”

“Abs!” Tony growled in frustration.

“Well, look at it this way. If it was the family that was cursed, then Jim shouldn’t have died. He’s not family,” Abby explained. “He’s not a Paddington.”

“Technically, the house staff weren’t family either,” Tony rebutted. “Didn’t save them from Cousin Frankie’s wrath.”

“Yeah but they lived there. Jim didn’t live at the house.”

“I don’t think my family was cursed.”

“I’m agreeing with you,” Abby gently punched Tony’s arm. “I’m thinking there’s a cursed _object_ in the house. Or something. And that’s what’s been killing everyone. Maybe that thing influenced your cousin Frankie and made him do this terrible thing.”

“I can’t even… You know what, I’m going to grab another drink and I don’t want to talk about curses anymore, Abs,” Tony pursed his lips. “Real people died, Abby. This isn’t just some story. My cousin killed a lot of people. He murdered his own wife and children in cold blood and shot everyone in the house, before he drowned himself. He was obviously sick and needed psychiatric help. And Jim? I don’t know what the deal was with him, but he lived alone, and maybe he was depressed or drunk or high. And the lake was convenient. An easy out or a freak accident. Who knows.”

Abby looked mutinous, but kept silent as Tony stomped away. She turned beseeching eyes to Gibbs. “You think I’m on the right track, don’t you?” she whined. “You saw that _thing_.”

Gibbs sighed. He didn’t know what he believed. He didn’t know what to think. He knew what he wanted the thing in the shadows to be, he wanted it to be poachers or something innocuous like that. But he couldn’t discount the glowing red eyes. He had seen them and he was not someone who was prone to imagining shit like that. But he didn’t know what to think and he really didn’t know what to say, given how upset Tony was getting talking about it, so he shrugged and said nothing.

Abby wasn’t happy with either of the men, but she let the subject drop. For the moment, at least. Gibbs knew that look in her eye. She wasn’t going to leave this alone, and for the life of him, he didn’t think he should stop her. Even if she was wrong, maybe it would be better to have all their bases covered and have someone do that voodoo shit and cleanse the house or whatever, as well as the regular police work to uncover the mystery.

The next morning, Abby insisted on riding with them to Roanoke, citing that it was better to give Vic Velasquez her statement in person. She’d apparently taken more days off. Gibbs wondered how Vance would take this new development.

Tony glared at her, still upset about the whole curse thing, but it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep in the passenger seat. Abby chattered on quietly to Gibbs for a little while but then she, too, fell asleep.

Gibbs watched her in the rearview mirror and realized that there were dark circles under her eyes and that she looked like she could use more sleep. Even under all that makeup, he could see it. Abby was also tired.

Had she not been sleeping? Sleepwalking wasn’t infectious, was it? Because if it was, then Gibbs was the one who’d been around Tony the most. Hell, he was the one anchoring Tony down at night so the man could get restful sleep. Physically anchoring him. Nobody could get any closer to Tony than that. So if this mysterious parasomnia that Tony was suffering was somehow catching, then shouldn’t _he_ be the one to catch it first? Not Abby?

Gibbs blew out a frustrated breath. What the hell was going on with Tony’s house in Roanoke? His mind started going through the case files that they’d gone through the previous night. It had seemed as if the Paddingtons had lived peacefully in that very house for close to a hundred years before the events with Tony’s Cousin Frankie. If he wanted to keep to the logical, scientifically proven argument, then something happened to Franklin Paddington. Some kind of psychotic break that caused him to kill everyone in the house before he drowned himself. Without being weighted down. He’d just walked into the water and drowned himself, which took a lot of determination. The instinct to save one’s self should have kicked in. But if he had suffered a psychotic break, then maybe that scenario was possible.

But if he were to give in to the memory of those red eyes glowing balefully in the dark at him? Yeah. Maybe the house was haunted or maybe the family was cursed or something. Although, what could have brought it on? Before the tragedy that befell the Paddington family and their house staff, the house had not had a bad reputation, no signs of haunting or whatever the hell that thing was. The first Paddingtons to emigrate had been the ones to build the house. It had been passed down, keeping it in the Paddington family from generation to generation and by all accounts, they had been happy there. But given what happened to Franklin and his family, something must have changed.

Gibbs didn’t want to give credence to horror movies or other fantasy fiction, but maybe Abby’s theory wasn’t completely off base? Maybe somebody put a curse on them? Although maybe not a family curse, because as a Paddington, then Tony should have also died young – although not for lack of trying, certainly after Gibbs worked with him and then he started at NCIS. Gibbs had enough gray hairs caused by Tony’s shenanigans and reckless lack of self preservation when faced with armed criminals. But if one followed the logic in that all Paddingtons on this side of the Atlantic had been cursed, then Tony should have died. It wasn’t like it was a secret that his mother had been a Paddington. But Tony only started with the whole sleepwalking and lake crap after he actually went to Roanoke, went and saw the house and went through his family’s belongings.

What if it was something that belonged to the Paddingtons that had been cursed or whatever the hell was happening there? And when Tony came into contact with it, it activated again, causing Tony’s sleepwalking issues and somehow bringing Jim the piano guy’s death into the picture?

Gibbs scoffed at himself. _Ridiculous_. He was obviously going off the deep end and listening to too much of Abby’s drivel.

But yet. There was that thing with the red eyes that had been watching them. There had been a _wrongness_ about it. Besides, Gibbs had felt eyes on them all that week, and he’s seen that cloaked figure twice now. It wasn’t a person. It couldn’t be human. And it wasn’t some kind of wild animal. He knew it. He felt that in his gut. Besides, what animal wore a goddamned hood and had red eyes that _glowed in the dark_. It wasn’t a trick of the light because it had been dark and Gibbs didn’t have a flashlight or any kind of light source. Those eyes were glowing. Like some monster in a movie.

Gibbs sighed. Maybe he should speak to Abby about what she might be able to do about a cursed object, if that was her theory, when Tony wasn’t within earshot. Better to be safe than sorry. He also wanted to speak to Yan’s Nana again, hoping for a lucid day. He wanted to better understand what she’d seen that day when she returned to Paddington House to find everyone dead. She might also be able to provide Abby with some of the answers to questions that the police wouldn’t have asked her when the investigation was still active. Cops didn’t usually ask ‘have you ever seen a thing in the woods with glowing red eyes?’, for instance.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing Abby curled up against the window, sleeping soundly and smiled to himself. He took a quick look at Tony, also similarly curled up and also sleeping soundly. At least they were both safe and he could keep an eye on both of them while they were at Tony’s apartment in Roanoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so awesome! This is the first time I'm trying my hand at something in this genre (horror/supernatural) so thank you so much for your support and wonderful comments! <3 <3
> 
> Also the next chapter will be tomorrow! Don't forget to tune in! :D
> 
> PS - there are 9 chapters in total but as Ytteb kindly informed me, if you have the total number of chapters filled in, it doesn't make the story pop up to the top of the list (chronologically) when I add a chapter. So I took the total number of chapters out. So, in case you were wondering how long the story is. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

[](https://i.imgur.com/ihBNWtD.jpg)

Gibbs drove straight to the station where Vic was waiting for them. She spoke to them separately, personally taking their statements. Gibbs repeated what he’d already said on the phone. He had nothing new to add. He told her what he saw of the cloaked figure, including the red eyes, although he couched it in careful words. He knew that that would probably be the focus of Abby’s statement and while he didn’t want to go into hysterics about it, and he didn’t want to come across as crazy, he didn’t want to leave this detail out either. As to what Tony might have been saying when he gave his statement? Well. He wasn’t entirely sure if Tony was even awake to give his own statement, he looked so out of it. So who knew what the man would have said to Vic.

Vic jerked her head at Tony, frowning, when she brought him out to where they were waiting. Tony had been the last of them to give his statement. Abby put her arm around Tony and sat him down next to her on the bench and he laid his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Gibbs took her aside, seeing her unvoiced question. “He’s not well,” he said shortly.

“I can see that. What’s going on? He won’t talk about it to me.”

Gibbs gave it a moment of consideration before he decided to tell Velasquez the truth. “Sleepwalking. Sleep deprivation,” he muttered. “He doesn’t think it’s serious but the doctors can’t figure out why it’s happening.”

“I really don’t think he was awake for this statement,” Vic pursed her lips.

“I’m not surprised,” Gibbs sighed. “He’s been losing time. If we wake him, he seems awake enough but turns out he’s not. Doesn’t have any memory of full conversations.”

“And he was walking into the lake on Saturday night?”

Gibbs nodded.

“Like Franklin Paddington?”

Gibbs nodded again.

“It might seem that James Vaughan did the same thing as well. Our ME says that there are no defensive wounds, no signs of a struggle, no signs that there was anyone else at the lake with him to hold him down. Nothing of the sort. His tox screens came back clean,” Velasquez told him. “He just walked in and decided to drown. People don’t do that without some involuntary survival instincts kicking in. People who drown themselves normally have to weigh themselves down to forcefully negate those involuntary reaction to reach for air.”

Gibbs sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“What’s there to tell?” Vic grimaced.

“If you need another set of eyes, let me know. Our ME would be happy to do you a favor. Nothing official, I know this isn’t our jurisdiction.”

She made a face. “Let’s wait on that. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Sure,” Gibbs nodded. “Just let us know if we can do anything to help.”

Velasquez nodded her thanks. “You keep an eye on DiNozzo.”

Gibbs shrugged. “So far, I count two deaths by what looks to be voluntary drowning in that lake behind Tony’s house. Tony and Abby both tried to walk into that very same lake on Saturday night. Tony was sleepwalking and Abby was, I don’t even know what the hell that was with her. Sleepwalking, fugue state. I don’t know. So yeah, you can bet I’m going to be keeping my eyes trained on both of them.”

Velasquez frowned. “What the hell is going on here?” she threw up her hands.

“You got me,” Gibbs replied.

They exchanged a long look before Gibbs sighed. “I better get him back to his apartment so he can sleep this off and wake up properly at some point.”

Velasquez nodded. “You planning to be here long?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Probably not. I’d like to get everyone back to DC away from lakes with this kind of history,” he muttered. “And I’d like for DiNozzo to be closer to his doctors while they fix this parasomnia shit.”

Velasquez nodded.

Gibbs got everyone back into his car and drove them to Tony’s apartment. He tucked Tony into bed and the man turned onto his belly and seemed to be deeply asleep almost immediately. Abby was waiting for him downstairs with a fresh cup of coffee and a caf-pow for herself.

“You been sleeping OK?” Gibbs asked her bluntly, noting the dark circles around her eyes.

“I’ve been having some trouble sleeping since Saturday night,” she admitted reluctantly.

“Sleepwalking?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. For now it might just be these really weird and intense dreams.”

“Do you remember them?”

She grimaced. “Kind of? Vaguely. Mostly I remember being scared and seeing things in the shadows.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Things?” he questioned.

“I don’t know!” she huffed. “ _Things_! Things with red eyes that glow!”

“Really?”

“I don’t know. I can’t say for sure because I don’t really remember the details. But I bet I’m dreaming about the thing in the woods with the glowing red eyes,” Abby said fiercely.

Gibbs sighed. “What else?”

“Music?” she said hesitantly. “Piano music?”

“DiNozzo dreams of piano music too,” he murmured softly.

“It’s the fucking curse,” Abby hissed angrily. “It’s somehow affecting me, too. And don’t tell me there isn’t a curse. It’s not a curse on the family like people are saying. It’s an object. Something that Tony and I touched or activated or something, that’s causing this. Something you haven’t been exposed to.”

“Why haven’t there been more victims then? Workmen go in and out of that house every day. Yannick has touched everything in the storage units, same as Tony. What else is there that could be the cursed object?”

“I don’t know but it’s something Jim touched too,” Abby set her lips in a straight line. “We should call Yan and see what’s going on.”

Gibbs nodded. He wanted to do the same as well. In addition, he wanted to ask Yannick if his grandmother was having a good day or a bad day to see if maybe they could ask her some questions.

\--------------------------------------

They were at Ms Rousseau’s for dinner. Tony looked refreshed and awake for a change. All the sleep he’d been getting with Gibbs the last couple of weeks seemed to be finally making a difference. They were eating together, and tonight Yannick’s grandmother had insisted that Tony sit next to her.

Tony happily sat next to the elderly woman, helping cut her food and speaking to her without any reservations. Veronique seemed to be in good spirits and indulgent of Tony’s foibles. Gibbs couldn’t help but stare at Tony and take in the sight of his Senior Field Agent who had integrated so seamlessly into this family. This was Tony without his masks. This was the Tony that people very rarely got to see. And Gibbs couldn’t help but drink in this sight. It had been a very long time since he had seen this Tony, and even before he’d lost Tony’s trust, he rarely ever got this version of the man without there being copious amounts of alcohol involved for the both of them. It was a pleasure to see him so happy and so himself and in his element, without pretense or any kind of guile.

But even though the atmosphere was easy and the conversation light at the dinner table, there was an oppressing tension behind it. Everyone had heard about what had happened to Jim the piano tuner and it was obvious that Ms Rousseau was worried, not just about Yannick but also about Tony. Whatever else had happened in Roanoke, Gibbs could see that Tony had been adopted by Yannick’s family and that they were genuinely fond of the man. And they were concerned about him, especially given the new developments.

After dinner had been cleared away, Tony kneeled at Veronique’s feet, as she sat in her rocking chair, knitting something colorful. Every so often the old woman would place a hand on Tony’s head or on his cheek and smile at him. There was no doubt that he occupied a special place in her heart.

“Nana,” Yannick pulled a chair over so he could sit close to his grandmother. Gibbs watched as he put a large hand on Tony’s cheek and Tony leaned into it. He had to squash that urge to yank Yannick’s hand away from Tony. “Agent Gibbs has some questions for you. About the Paddingtons?”

“Samuel is right here, Yan,” Nana smiled and gently rubbed her fingers on Tony’s cheek. “Samuel is right here with us.”

“I’m Anthony, Nana,” Tony reminded her. “I’m one of Samuel’s cousins.”

“You look so like him,” Nana’s smile grew sad. “So much like what he would have become.”

“I know, Nana,” Tony put a hand on Veronique’s wrist, holding her, the gesture a tender and gentle one.

“You Paddingtons with your green cat eyes,” Nana fingered Tony’s eyes, and he obligingly lifted his face and closed his eyes, letting the old woman touch his face, his lips turned up in a slight smile. When he opened his eyes, she smiled wider. “You are my Samuel, reborn.”

Abby and Gibbs exchanged glances.

“On that subject, Nana,” Tony started, and now Gibbs recognized the Tony that was playing the nice guy but with a definite interrogatory feel to him now. “Can you tell us about Cousin Frankie? What was he like?”

“Mister Frankie was sweet and kind,” Veronique began, her eyes faraway even though she kept her palm on Tony’s cheek. “He and Missus Regina were awfully nice to me even when I first started. I had worked for another family before the Paddingtons and they were never as nice to me as Mister Frankie and Missus Regina. I was accepted as part of the family, and their children were entrusted to me.”

“How long did you work for Cousin Frankie?” Tony asked.

“Over two years,” she answered. “When I went to work for Mister Frankie, my Samuel was an infant.”

Gibbs felt a pang of sorrow at those words. This woman had loved the children she was caring for. That much was evident. And Samuel had been her favorite.

“Was Samuel a good baby?” Tony asked gently.

Yannick was giving Gibbs a questioning glance, and Gibbs understood it. It wasn’t part of what they needed to know. Gibbs and Tony were there to ask about Franklin Paddington’s behavior in the months prior to his death and to ask what new things might have been introduced to the house. Well the latter was a question that Gibbs would ask. He and Abby had decided that given Tony’s attitude towards the whole ‘cursed’ subject, that it wouldn’t be a good idea to let him know they meant to ask that question. But even though Tony wasn’t asking about something pertinent to the subject at hand, there was an art to getting people to talk, and Tony was a master. This was how he could interrogate people without even seeming to interrogate them. He knew that Samuel was Veronique’s favorite child, and asking her to talk about him would ease the way into the more difficult subjects. Also it might get them other peripheral information that would otherwise not come out by going directly to the questions they wanted to ask. So Gibbs made a small gesture with his hand, signaling Yannick that everything was fine and to let Tony continue with the interview.

“Samuel was a lovely baby, and a sweet toddler. He rarely cried, and only ever had smiles for his Nanny,” Veronique smiled. “Just like you, my sweet boy. Lovely and sweet, just like you.”

Gibbs watched as Tony blushed at the compliment, smiling up at the woman and leaning into her hand.

“So he wasn’t hard to care for? Did he cry a lot at night as an infant?”

“He woke up at nights,” Veronique chuckled to herself. “But he just laid there, cooing to himself, and looking up at his mobiles and all the lovely things that Mister Frankie had hung up over the crib. He soothed himself and waited for me to come and change him and give him his bottle.”

“Sounds like a dream baby,” Tony remarked.

“Mmm-hmm,” the old woman gave Ms Rousseau a naughty glance. “Not like this one over here. She was a hellion from the get go.”

“Mama!” Ms Rousseau clucked at her. “I couldn’t help being a colicky baby.”

“Mmm. Well you keep telling yourself that, sweet girl,” Veronique laughed. “Oh, Samuel definitely was a much easier baby.”

“So you got up with him at nights?” Tony continued.

Veronique nodded. “I _was_ the nanny, after all,” she joked.

Tony and Yannick both chuckled at that. “Was the rest of the family usually asleep at this time?” Tony asked.

Gibbs could see where Tony was going with this line of questioning now.

“Oh yes,” Veronique nodded. “The Missus would sometimes be up with me, on the off day that Samuel was fussy. He fussed somewhat when he was teething or if he was sick. And since he was such a good baby at all other times, if he fussed, we paid attention. You know? He wasn’t like the boy who cried wolf. He only cried if there was reason to cry.”

“Mister Frankie never got up with his wife?” Tony’s tone was gentle. Not at all judgmental.

“Oh no, it was a different time back then,” Veronique shook her head vehemently. “Men did not get up to care for their crying children. It was my job or the Missus’s.”

“And he never woke up or heard the cries or anything?”

“No, no. Mister Frankie was a heavy sleeper,” the old woman sighed. “Up until a month or two before… before…”

Tony took Veronique’s hand and squeezed gently, rubbing his fingers over her wrists and calming her. “We don’t need to talk about what happened that night, OK?” he told her.

Veronique nodded, tears in her eyes. “I lost them all,” she whispered. “My mama was sick and I went home to care for her, and when I went back the next morning they were all gone. All of them. Even my sweet Samuel,” She sounded heartbroken, even all these years later, tears in her dark eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Nana,” Tony whispered. Yannick put his hand over Tony’s, the one that was clasping Veronique’s wrinkled hand.

They were silent for a moment, giving the old woman time to pull herself together. She finally sniffled and petted Tony absently.

“Did Cousin Frankie change his night time routine?” Tony finally started the interview again. “You said he was a heavy sleeper except the last month or two…?”

Veronique nodded. “I was up with baby Sarah then,” she sniffed. Sarah Paddington had been barely a year old at the time of the incident, Gibbs remembered. “She cried more than my Samuel did. I was up with her at nights quite a bit. And Mister Frankie started walking around at night.”

“Did you see him?” Tony asked.

“I saw him sometimes. He near gave me a heart attack walking around barefoot and silent all over the house.”

“Did he look in on the children?”

“No, he never looked in even if Sarah was crying,” came the answer.

“And that was unlike him?”

“I believe that Mister Frankie would have come to see if Sarah was all right if he was awake and himself,” she said grimly.

“You don’t think he was himself?”

“He was walking around, but Charlene, the housekeeper, she told me she didn’t think he was awake.”

“He was sleepwalking?”

“I suppose so. I can’t be sure, but he changed during those months. He wasn’t friendly and happy. He was always tired and sad.”

Gibbs and Abby exchanged another glance. Tired, sad, and sleepwalking over the course of a couple months? That definitely sounded like familiar behavior.

“Do you know why he changed?” Tony asked.

Veronique was silent for a long time and Tony gave Gibbs a significant look. He was thinking maybe it was time to end the interview, Gibbs could tell. They didn’t want to upset her or tire her out.

“I don’t know why he changed,” Veronique’s voice surprised them. “But I think it might have started after his birthday.”

Franklin Paddington had had a birthday a couple of months before the incident.

“Was he depressed or sad?” Yannick asked. “Maybe brought on by the birthday?”

“It didn’t seem like it.”

“Was he drinking more, maybe?” Tony asked. “My father liked his scotch every day on the dot, and I used to have to pour it for him. I could always tell when he was drinking more than usual, or if he was upset about something.”

Gibbs felt like that was significant tidbit of Tony’s childhood. From Tony’s stories, he’d surmised that his mother had been an alcoholic, and his father not just neglectful but possibly abusive. And now, possibly also an alcoholic, if as a child Tony was able to tell how much his father had been drinking. If as a child, Tony ‘used to have to’ pour the man his scotch.

“No, no. He seemed to eat and drink a lot less,” Veronique frowned. “He would give the children food from his plate instead of eating it himself. And Charlene, the housekeeper, was always strict about libations because Missus Regina’s folks had been ruined by drink. Missus Regina always made sure that nobody imbibed too much, and asked Charlene to keep an eye on all of the drinks.”

Tony nodded, frowning. Gibbs could tell that based on what Veronique had told them, nothing really stood out as a cause for the change in behavior.

“I heard that he was found by the lake one morning,” Tony said, sounding hesitant. “Before it all happened, I mean. Is that even true?”

“It scared the entire household!” Veronique agreed. “He was wet and cold. I didn’t hear what the whole story was, but we thought he’d been asleep when he went into the lake. He didn’t even wake up even though he was sopping wet!”

“That’s peculiar,” Tony sighed. “He didn’t wake up?”

This time, Yannick and Gibbs exchanged glances. Just like Abby and Tony hadn’t woken up even though they were wet and halfway into the lake on Saturday night.

“No. He woke up in the morning, half in the lake,” Yannick’s grandmother continued. “Probably had been there half the night. Almost caught his death of cold.”

“For his birthday, did they have a party?” Abby interjected.

“Mister Frankie’s birthday?” Veronique’s eyes brightened and she smiled at the memory. “Oh, it was a big party. All their friends were invited. Missus Regina gave all of us a day off, so we could enjoy the food and drinks, and relax. She hired people to cook and serve instead, and we were allowed our own little celebration of Mister Frankie’s birthday. We even ate the food that the caterers made and didn’t have to do any of that ourselves.”

“That sounds lovely!” Abby gushed.

“It’s where I met my second husband,” she smiled. “After my first husband died, I went back to work and left Renee with my mama. He was one of the servers the Missus had hired and he snuck in to where we were and had a glass of wine with me. He didn’t care that I was a widow or that I had a daughter.”

“Nana! You minx,” Yannick teased.

“Hush,” Ms Rousseau scolded him. “You let your Nana tell her story.”

“You want to hear about how Nana met Grandad, huh?” Yan teased his mother now.

“All they ever told me was that they met at a party,” Ms Rousseau rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know any of this detail!”

Veronique smiled at her daughter and grandson. “He was handsome, dressed in his server outfit. Oh he was always so handsome.”

Tony smiled at that, and Gibbs could hear the warmth and love in Veronique’s voice as she spoke of her late husband.

“Did Mister Frankie get any good gifts?” Gibbs asked.

Tony frowned at him. Gibbs didn’t usually ask about anybody’s birthday or the presents that they might have received. Not unless there was something behind the question. Tony knew him well.

“The usual haul,” Veronique answered easily. “Mostly books. Mister Frankie was a scholar and always had his nose in a book, so his friends tried to give him rare books.”

“The books that the book restorer is working on,” Tony nodded. “Such a shame they left them all in the library just like that, and didn’t box them up with all the rest of the stuff in storage.”

“Missus Regina outdid everyone else though, by giving him that antique piano. Supposed to have been one of the first ones ever made in this country,” the woman pursed her lips. “It had a sweet tone. Mister Frankie loved it so much he put the old piano in storage and put the new one in the salon upstairs.”

“The piano was a gift? The one that was left in the house?” Gibbs asked.

Veronique nodded. “Mister Frankie loved that thing. He played it all the time. Always playing this one song.” She began humming softly, and Gibbs figured it had to be the music. It sounded soft and slow and haunting.

Abby frowned thoughtfully. She signed “I know that song,” to him. “But I don’t know how I know it.”

“Your dreams?” Gibbs signed back.

“Maybe,” Abby’s hands were hesitant.

Gibbs nodded.

Tony hummed along with her, and she smiled. “That’s the song! You know it!” she exclaimed.

“My mother must have taught me that a long time ago,” Tony grinned. “It’s very familiar.”

“You are most definitely a Paddington,” she smiled. “Maybe you’ll play for me one day?”

“Sure, Nana,” Tony said easily. “You can ask Yannick to bring you to dinner at my apartment. I’ll cook and after dinner I’ll play some piano for you, maybe win your heart with it. Maybe I’ll have a chance with you, huh, Nana?” He winked playfully at her.

Veronique laughed happily.

“Why did they leave the books in the house?” Gibbs asked, going back to something that bothered him.

“Folk were afraid,” Veronique told him.

“Afraid?” Tony asked, puzzled. “Of the books?”

“They said someone had put a curse on Mister Frankie and the family,” she said in a hushed voice. “They thought that it had to be something Mister Frankie loved, because he was the only one behaving so strangely. So the books, and the piano, the things he loved the most, they were left in the house when they packed everything else up. No one wanted to touch them.”

“There isn’t a curse,” Tony growled.

“Cursed object, maybe,” Abby interrupted. “They left the books, because there were books that were Franklin Paddington’s birthday presents, and the piano, too. So it made sense that they left those things in the house and didn’t touch them because they thought these items were cursed.”

“That’s what people said,” Veronique agreed.

“You don’t believe in curses, do you Nana?” Tony asked her.

Veronique sighed and covered her face. “I would have said no, if I hadn’t been the one to come home and find them all dead. Baby Sarah. My sweet, sweet Samuel. Charlene. The Missus. Everyone was gone.”

Tony straightened up and hugged the old woman. “I’m so sorry, Nana,” he whispered.

“It’s OK now,” Veronique told him. “You’ve come home. A Paddington, back in Roanoke, is a good thing. The house will be beautiful once again. Filled will life again.”

“That’s what we’re working towards,” Yannick agreed.

That was all they could get out of her. Veronique wanted to go right to bed after that and Ms Rousseau and Tony, since Veronique refused to let go of his hand, helped her up and led her to her room. Gibbs, Abby and Yannick sat and stared at each other.

“You think that the piano is cursed?” Yannick asked.

“It has to be!” Abby was excited. “All the books are with the restorer and nobody’s told us that he’d drowned himself, right? Jim was the piano restorer. And Tony said he was pretty draconian and didn’t let anyone touch that thing, even to move it, unless they were wearing gloves. He didn’t want oils from their fingers to affect it and make his restoration work harder. And you know what? He let me finger the piano while we were there that first Sunday we were here! I touched it with my bare hands. Tony did, too.”

Gibbs didn’t want to believe it, after all he was a rational, logical man, but this seemed to make sense. Tony would have obviously played that old piano when he first discovered it. Tony was one of those people who couldn’t help but touch everything so he would have been all over that thing, probably from the very first time he discovered the piano, Gibbs would bet. And Jim, of course, touched the piano on a regular basis as he worked on it. Even if he wore gloves, he would have touched the instrument barehanded every so often. Gibbs could tell, given that the man had probably even given the piano a name. He would have, at times, broken his own rules and run his hands over the piano with his bare fingers. And now Jim had drowned himself in the lake behind the house. Tony had been sleepwalking for weeks and exhausting himself, and he’d also had the same issues with losing his appetite. There was also the incident where he and Abby both tried to walk into the lake. So it made a weird sort of sense.

“Maybe,” Gibbs had to nod reluctantly.

“It’s the only explanation,” Abby declared.

“Maybe,” was all Gibbs would say, even if he didn’t disagree with Abby. “But let’s not talk about this with Tony right now. He’s just going to get upset.”

Abby nodded solemnly. “You want me to just sit on this?”

“Find out what we can do to fix this. If that piano is cursed, how do we un-curse it,” Gibbs told her.

“On it, Boss,” Abby saluted him. Wrong handed. Again.

“Wrong hand, Abs,” he barked.

Abby grinned mischievously as she switched hands and saluted him again. “You’d think I’d remember the right hand by now, right?”

“You would think that,” Gibbs grumbled.

Yannick grinned at their interactions. “What can I do?” he asked.

“Make sure nobody else touches that piano,” Gibbs told him. “I know we’re speculating and this is farfetched, but still…”

“No one wants to touch that thing,” Yannick told him solemnly. “They think that piano is spooky. I’ve already lost some of the workmen on this project. A few are superstitious, and have lived with the lore of the house all their lives. Most of us are local, and we grew up with the whole spooky curse thing, so Jim drowning in the lake caused a few of our men to quit. Right now, nobody will voluntarily want to touch that piano. Besides, Tony decided to stop all work on the house this week, until they figure out what happened to Jim, so nobody should even be there this week.”

“It’s _not_ the house itself,” Abby shook her head. “I’ll figure out what to do to neutralize the piano, and maybe it can go into storage somewhere and never be looked at again.”

“Tony’s not going to like that,” Yannick sighed. “That’s one of the oldest pianos to ever be made by Steinway. One of the first pianos made on this continent. He was planning on loaning it out to museums, I think.”

“He can still do that, if we figure out how to remove the curse. Or do you think maybe the piano is haunted instead of cursed? I mean we saw that thing in the woods.”

“Abs,” Gibbs jerked his head. He could hear Tony and Ms Rousseau coming back. “Zip it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you have wanted more interactions with Yan's Nana, the Paddingtons' old nanny. So I hope this chapter worked for you :D
> 
> Tune in tomorrow for the next installment! In fact, I'm hoping to try and post two chapters tomorrow, since it's Sunday. But don't hold me to that! I can commit to at least one chapter tomorrow, though :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it.

[](https://i.imgur.com/0Arv5WJ.jpg)

_“Abs,” Gibbs jerked his head. He could hear Tony and Ms Rousseau coming back. “Zip it.”_

Abby opened her mouth to object, but Tony and Ms Rousseau entered the room, speaking in soft tones. Gibbs listened in on their conversation and realized that Ms Rousseau was expressing her concern about Tony’s health. Apparently, Yannick had told her about his sleep-related issues. Tony was doing his best to deflect, but he was also soaking up the warmth and maternal love that Ms Rousseau was giving off. Gibbs couldn’t help but breathe a little easier. The poor man was so starved for affection, and had lost his mother at such a young age. He was glad that at least now, Tony had Yannick’s mother as a surrogate. Of course, he had Ducky at NCIS who was as paternal as they came to everyone, especially the people on Gibbs’ team, but other than Abby mothering him which was sometimes hit or miss, he didn’t really have a mother figure.

They sat and had dessert with the Rousseaus before heading back to Tony’s apartment. Gibbs was starting to get used to the new space. Despite the darkness that surrounded the Paddington house and all the people who had died there, Tony’s apartment in Roanoke was warm and welcoming, filled with sunshine and light. The comfortable antiques Tony’d brought out of storage, even the furniture that he had bought like the couch, all screamed comfort instead of style, quite unlike the way Tony’s DC apartment was furnished. Gibbs didn’t really know what to make of the difference in the feel of Tony’s two apartments. Did it mean that his DC apartment was mostly just for show? That he was just putting it out there that he was settled down and had unpacked his things from storage and wasn’t living out of boxes like he was when Gibbs first met him back in Baltimore, but somehow it was just to have some kind of outward showing that he had settled in to DC? And did it mean that the homey feeling of his apartment here in Roanoke, that comfortable, lived in feeling, did that mean that Tony’s apartment here wasn’t just a way to show people he had settled in but had in fact truly settled in and made himself at home here?

It was giving Gibbs a headache to think and overthink every single thing that he could see now. It didn’t help that Yannick had given Tony a long, tight hug that Tony just melted into, practically sighing with relief at having the man’s strong arms around him, before they said goodbye. That had definitely added to Gibbs’ headache. Was Tony becoming attached to Yannick and the other people of Roanoke, and further loosening his already frayed ties to DC? And if so, could Gibbs really blame him?

Whatever. Gibbs had to cut off that train of thought. He couldn’t keep thinking about these things while at the same time worrying about how to keep Tony and Abby safe without driving himself up the wall, so he tried to let it go for the time being. For the night, he just needed to make sure that both his friends were safe and not wandering around Roanoke looking for lakes to drown themselves in. He would have to find some time – maybe while Tony was showering or something – to speak to Abby about what she could do about the whole possibly cursed piano or whatever that was going on with Paddington House. Gibbs didn’t care whether he believed in it or not, he just needed something to be done so he could feel like they were at least accomplishing something. Doing something was better than doing nothing, even if the something seemed outlandish or beyond belief.

They spent the rest of the evening watching movies on the wide screen TV before Gibbs hustled a practically asleep Tony to bed upstairs and Abby settled in on the sofa for the night. Gibbs had done all the deadbolts on Tony’s door – you could take the cop out of DC but apparently, you couldn’t take DC out of the cop – and taken the precaution of hanging a bell on the doorknob so he would hear it if Abby started wandering around and trying to leave the apartment that night. He wasn’t certain that she was sleepwalking now, too, but he could tell that she was tired and exhausted and already seemed to be sleep deprived even though it hadn’t been that many days since Saturday night. If one week of this was enough to visibly tire Abby, he couldn’t even fathom how Tony could have been functioning so well for so long, such that even Gibbs hadn’t really noticed just how bad off Tony must have been. Gibbs was determined not to let either of them come to harm now, and determined to ensure that Tony got better.

It was mid-afternoon the next day, and Gibbs had been enforcing Tony’s rest. They’d spent the morning going out to brunch with Yannick and letting Tony talk about what they needed to do to finish the restoration of the Paddington House, and that they needed to let the investigation into Jim’s death play out further. It had been a quiet day so far. Gibbs hadn’t wanted to let Tony do anything too strenuous, so by that afternoon Tony was sprawled on his couch, dozing, supposedly attempting to read, while Gibbs poked through the Paddington murders case files and the photos Tony had of the house at the work table. There was a surprising number of family photos mixed in with the house photos, pictures of Tony’s mother as a child, as she was growing up. It was unexpected because Gibbs had known that a stepmother or two had destroyed the photos of Senior’s first wife, even though she’d left behind a young son who would have appreciated photos and mementos of his mother. But yet, here were quite a few pictures of Tony’s mother. Gibbs thought they must have been given to him by his Paddington cousin, since the pictures were from his mother’s childhood and none looked to be from after she had gotten married and become estranged from her family in England.

Abby had disappeared to run a mysterious errand right after lunch, and the quiet knock startled Tony out of his nap. Gibbs was at the door, checking the peep hole first before opening it.

Abby walked in accompanied by a dark skinned woman who wore a colorful dress and was adorned with so many bangles and necklaces that Gibbs thought her limbs must feel weighed down by them.

“The piano at the house is possessed!” Abby declared.

Tony blinked and stared at Abby and the woman for a moment before he sprang up, fully awake now. “ _What_?” he demanded.

“It’s been confirmed. Miss Claudette here has been my mother’s advisor for years, and I asked her to fly up to look at the house as a favor to me, and she’s confirmed that the piano that your cousin’s wife bought for him is _possessed_! By a kind of _malevolent spirit_.”

Tony’s expression darkened and he scowled. “Didn’t I tell you to stop messing around with this shit?” he barked. “I told you that this is bullshit and I’m not listening to any of it.”

“But Tony…” Abby’s eyes grew huge with hurt. “This _is_ serious! I’m trying to save your life! This isn’t a joke!”

“Do you see me laughing? I’m not bullshitting you, Abs. Stop this nonsense,” Tony was livid. “This is my house we’re talking about, and real people have died in it. People who are my _family_. Don’t diminish what’s happened here with… _this_ ,” he sneered at Abby and her guest. “No offense, I’m sure you’re super nice and all, Miss Claudette, but Abby will take you home now.”

“Tony!” Abby objected.

“Get her out of my apartment!” Tony barked, and Gibbs watched as DiNozzo turned his back on Abby and stomped up the stairs.

“But Tony…”

“Seriously, Abs, don’t make me throw _you_ out, too,” Tony’s eyes were flashing in anger, as he paused to glare at the goth girl, halfway up the stairs. “Don’t trivialize what happened to my family with superstitious bullshit, OK? I’m sick of stupid ass guide books putting ideas into people’s heads and making it seem as if something that was obviously the product of a mentally ill mind into something about hauntings or possessions or curses! So get her the fuck out of my house.”

Gibbs ushered the women out the door, stepped outside the apartment, and closed the door behind him. Arms crossed, he scrutinized the newcomer. She was middle aged, her hair was wrapped in a stylish turban, and she looked like what Gibbs would think a voodoo priestess would look like.

“Are you for real?” Gibbs asked her.

She nodded solemnly. “Abigail drove me to the house, and there is _something_ there. I believe it is attached to the piano,” she spoke with an obvious southern accent.

Gibbs sighed. Again, he didn’t know what to believe, but wasn’t it better to be safe than sorry? Even Yannick’s Nana believed in some kind of curse, and she had actually been an eyewitness to the aftermath of what happened at Paddington House so long ago.

“Can you do anything about it?” Gibbs asked.

Abby was nodding excitedly, but uncharacteristically of her, she let Miss Claudette speak for herself.

“I can perform a cleansing ritual, and try to bind this spirit to something that we can then destroy,” Miss Claudette said calmly.

“Then let’s do it,” Gibbs nodded. What Tony didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Chances were, Miss Claudette might be full of shit, but if there was even a chance that they could cure what ailed Tony in this way, Gibbs was definitely taking that chance.

“You must keep this on your person at all times to protect yourself from its influence,” Miss Claudette pulled a small cloth bag tied with red string out of her purse. “This spirit is not borne of voodoo, but the gris-gris I made should at least give you some resistance to it.”

Abby pulled the string out and revealed a gris-gris bag that she’d looped around her neck and hidden under her clothing. Gibbs nodded and put the bag around his neck, sliding it under his shirt.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to get DiNozzo to wear one,” Gibbs shook his head. “He’s really opposed to this.”

“I saw that,” Claudette smiled. “Abigail will help me distribute the bags I made to those closest to you here. I also made one extra for you, just in case you can persuade Tony to wear it.” She handed him another bag, which he stuck in his pocket.

“Can you do this right away?” Gibbs asked. “This cleansing ritual?”

“It must be performed after dark,” Miss Claudette said apologetically. “Ideally, at midnight. I will be at the house tonight to complete the binding and cleansing.”

Gibbs nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’d better go on back in before Tony blows a gasket,” Abby advised him.

Gibbs nodded, kissed Abby on the cheek, and quietly slipped back into Tony’s apartment. Tony was still upstairs, and Gibbs could hear him stomping around and slamming the bathroom door. It was really not like Tony to show his anger in this way, and Gibbs wondered if it was because of how much Paddington House and its history meant to him, or if he was still not recovered from the long term sleep deprivation that it was making him more irritable than he normally would be. He went up to take a peek to ensure that Tony wasn’t doing anything he should worry about, and the glare he got from the younger man made him raise his hands in supplication and go on back down stairs, and back to the case files.

The case was fascinating. Morbidly so. Even though the forensic work was nowhere near as advanced as it would have been had the case been investigated today, Gibbs could see that the Roanoke Police Department had been incredibly thorough in their investigation. This was not the kind of thing that happened a lot in the area, and even though there had been theories about some drifter going by that could have been the actual perpetrator, there was no evidence pointing to it. Only Franklin Paddington’s fingerprints had been found on the gun that was used, and the knife had the fingerprints of Franklin Paddington as well as one or two other of the Paddington House kitchen staff, which was to be expected. They had not found any evidence of someone else, a stranger, having been there.

Veronique’s statement about finding the bodies was heartrending. She’d also mentioned the change in Franklin Paddington’s behavior of late, which was corroborated not just by Paddington’s friends, but also his colleagues at the college that he taught at. It had all been attributed to some kind of mental breakdown, and Gibbs could already hear Ducky’s voice in his head, looking at the case files, speaking about some kind of dissociative fugue during which time Paddington murdered his family and everyone else in the household. And then perhaps he’d woken up, realized what he’d done and drowned himself out of remorse. But it was odd that he would have drowned himself instead of just turning the gun to his own head. What had compelled him to do the completely unnatural thing of drowning himself without any kind of outside assistance? It should have been his body’s involuntary reaction to try to stop himself from drowning, to propel himself back above the water so he could breathe. But he didn’t do that, even though he hadn’t been weighed down.

There were so many questions still surrounding Franklin Paddington’s actions of so many years ago. So many things that still, to this day, didn’t make any sense. Nobody was disputing that he’d done these terrible things, but nobody could understand why he’d done them. Why did Paddington go to the lake to drown himself instead of just using the gun right in his hand? Why had he been sleepwalking and already found in the lake once, prior to the tragedy? And most importantly for Gibbs, why was Tony emulating this sleepwalking behavior, down to the whole obsession with not just going to the lake but going _into_ the lake, over a half century later? It just did not add up.

Whether Gibbs believed in malevolent spirits and possessions or not, he really hoped that whatever Miss Claudette did in Paddington House tonight worked. Because he couldn’t even contemplate the idea that Tony would shoot anyone for no reason, or try to drown himself. He’d already stopped Tony from trying to drown himself once, he didn’t need to have him do this again. So even if Gibbs didn’t know if he believed what Miss Claudette was saying, he also didn’t know if he had the luxury of not believing it either. It was better than doing nothing, which was what was grating on him.

Abby stayed with Miss Claudette, checking her into a hotel and then taking her to meet Yannick’s family. Miss Claudette wanted to speak to Yannick’s grandmother, specifically, but when Abby called to update him later, apparently Ms Cloutier was having a bad day and wasn’t really speaking to anyone. There was nothing for Gibbs to do other than keep Tony occupied while Abby helped Miss Claudette do whatever it was she needed to do in order to cleanse Tony’s house. Or piano. Or whatever the hell it was that the thing that Gibbs had seen watching them that night at the house was attached to. Whatever Gibbs did or did not believe, he was sure he had seen someone with glowing eyes looking at them, and he was inclined to go with Abby with this. Even though she tended to overdramatize and exaggerate some things, in this thing, the more he thought about it, the more he believed that it wasn’t a person. It wasn’t a poacher. It was a _thing_. A creature. A monster of some sort. It was something unnatural.

And if Tony weren’t under its influence, and weren’t so sleep deprived, Gibbs knew that he would agree as well.

So all Gibbs could do was wait it out now, and pray that whatever Miss Claudette was planning to do tonight worked. He tried to talk Tony into humoring Abby and putting on the gris-gris bag, but that only got him upset again. The very idea that something was so wrong with his inheritance that it was endangering people was too much for Tony to bear, and Gibbs had to quickly back off so as to not keep pushing Tony’s buttons. He stuffed the little pouch into his pocket and changed the subject.

He ended up distracting Tony by asking him to go through the old pictures, of the house during its heyday, of the family living there. Some of these photographs went back pretty early into the twentieth century, and Gibbs could see what Yannick’s grandmother was saying about how these Paddingtons had a certain look about them that Tony clearly shared. Even though the photos were in black and white, and Gibbs couldn’t tell how many of them had the green cat eyes that Tony did. But of the later photos of the house, there were all these pictures of Tony’s mother and his Uncle Clive, who had obviously been fond of his nephew, despite what Tony’s deflections had implied. Clive had left him money, a house, and all of these pictures that Tony handled with such reverence. It was all he had left of his mother, Gibbs realized. Tony didn’t really have many things that he cared about, and of those, they mostly related to his mother. The baby grand in his DC apartment had been his mother’s. These pictures from Clive. Now there was Paddington House and its contents which gave him a link not just to his mother, but to generations of past Paddingtons. Tony had a tangible connection to his past again, and no matter what, Gibbs couldn’t begrudge him that. Whatever his quarrel might be with Jackson, Gibbs knew that at least he still had his mother’s pictures and plenty of mementos. He’d also been older than Tony when he lost his mother. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for Tony to try to remember what it had been like when his mother had been alive. It was hard enough for Gibbs to go back and remember his own mother, and he’d been a teenager at the time of her death. Tony had only been eight.

So he was happy to let Tony chatter on about his mother, and explain the photos that he had. There were things written on the back of most of these, and Tony told him all the different ideas about which relative might have written the notes on the snapshots. He also talked about how he’d also digitized all of these photos, so he would never really lose them. Front, and back, so he’d be able to have a record of the notes jotted on the back of the photos.

It made Gibbs sad that Tony hadn’t felt like he could tell him any of this for so long. He also realized that the only reason that Tony was letting him in now was that he didn’t really have a choice. Gibbs had only found out about Roanoke and Tony’s house due to the sleep deprivation issues. So Tony including him now was only him making the best of a situation that he hadn’t really wanted or asked for, and he was choosing not to make Gibbs feel bad for being here in Roanoke with him, even though he would have preferred to finish this whole endeavor without Gibbs’ knowledge or input.

That evening, Tony insisted on cooking, and Gibbs sat and watched him, ensuring that there were no accidents. They didn’t need a house fire to complicate the already complicated matters, and Tony chattered away about everything and nothing as he cooked. Tony was carefully not asking where Abby was, and Gibbs was just as carefully not saying a word about it. They danced around the topic of Abby and Miss Claudette, even as Tony continued to regale Gibbs with stories of the adventures he and Yannick had had in the process of restoring the house.

After dinner, Gibbs helped Tony with the dishes, and wiped down the counters and the table. Then Tony suggested that they watch a movie, so Gibbs found himself on the couch with the man, watching a movie, a bowl of popcorn in Tony’s lap that Gibbs reached into and helped himself every so often. The movie was long, and even though it was interesting and had action sequences that were pretty spectacular – although Gibbs would be sure never to tell Tony this – it was dark in the apartment, and warm, Gibbs was full of good food. The couch was incredibly comfortable, like a warm body hug. And Gibbs was exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping well especially in the last few days. Tony’s presence also made Gibbs relax, and even though Gibbs didn’t plan on it, he ended up falling asleep.

When he jerked awake, the apartment was still dark, except for the TV. The DVD main menu was running on a loop. Gibbs sat up, heart pounding when he realized that Tony wasn’t on the couch anymore.

“DiNozzo!” he barked, looking around the apartment, checking the kitchen and bathroom, running up the stairs to check the bedroom. There was nobody else in the apartment except for him.

His phone told him that he’d been asleep for a couple of hours or so. He immediately called Abby, but she didn’t pick up. She and Miss Claudette might already be at the house, given how late it was. So where the hell was Tony? He looked for his car keys, thinking he should drive around and see if he could find Tony wandering down the street, hopefully still alive and in one piece and instead of pancaked out under a truck somewhere, but he couldn’t find his keys.

Now starting to really worry, he ran down to the street and saw that his car wasn’t where he’d left it. He called Abby again, and again she didn’t pick up. He snarled in frustration and decided to call Yannick.

“Gibbs?” Yannick sounded awake, despite the late hour. He sounded like he was out somewhere based on the background noise, even though it was a week night, but given that they weren’t actively working on Paddington House, it made sense that Yannick wouldn’t just be sitting at home alone.

“Is DiNozzo with you?” Gibbs asked, hope rising in his heart. Maybe Tony had gone to meet Yannick, and that was where he was.

“No,” Yannick muttered things to someone else, and there was a moment before things were quieter. “No, Tony’s not with me.”

“I accidentally fell asleep!” Gibbs couldn’t help but huff in frustration. “And Tony’s not here. Neither is my car.”

“He’s not supposed to drive, isn’t he?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Can someone sleep drive a car?”

“This whole fucking thing is so weird that I wouldn’t put it past Tony to be the guy who can sleep drive,” Gibbs rubbed his face. “Shit. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“You’re exhausted, too,” Yannick was understanding. “Look, I’m getting in my car now. Should I drive around and look for him?”

“I’m going to call in some reinforcements and see if they can track my car. That’ll make things easier.”

“You want me to come pick you up?”

“Please,” it hurt Gibbs to ask Yannick for anything, but he really needed to have a means of transportation. It would take him too long to hoof it on foot to Paddington House, which was where he suspected Tony had gone.

“I’ll be right there,” Yannick’s tone was grim.


	8. Chapter 8

[](https://i.imgur.com/62tvrKN.jpg)

Gibbs ran back up to the apartment to arm himself and put shoes on. He also called McGee and asked him to track his car.

“Boss! B-but, how would I track your car?” McGee asked, stuttering a little.

“I’m sure Abby would have put a tracker on it. I won’t hold it against you that you never told me she did this,” Gibbs rolled his eyes. As if Gibbs wouldn’t be aware of this.

“Well… I mean, it’s not like I wanted her to… And you know how she is. It’s not like I can stop her…”

“Just shut up and track my car, McGee,” Gibbs barked.

“On it!”

A minute later, McGee gave him the coordinates of his car. Gibbs had been right. It was at Paddington House. When Yannick arrived soon after, they broke multiple laws getting there as quickly as they could. Gibbs was pleasantly surprised that Yannick was a competent driver, handling his car carefully even as they were speeding well beyond the posted limits. But a small part of him resented that about the man. Did he have to be good at everything? It was no wonder Tony was gravitating towards him and away from Gibbs. But Gibbs tamped that pettiness down. There wasn’t time for it when Tony was missing. Luckily Roanoke wasn’t terribly busy this late on a weeknight, but even so, Yannick did well.

Yannick parked the car next to Gibbs’ when they got there. Tony had driven Gibbs’ car here, and Gibbs would bet that the man hadn’t been awake while he drove. There was also another car there, a rental from the look of it. Probably Abby and Miss Claudette’s. Lights were on on the second floor of the house and Gibbs and Yannick ran in and up the stairs where they found Abby guarding the door to the salon.

“Miss Claudette is in there, doing her thing,” Abby whispered. “What’s going on? What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you OK?” Gibbs asked.

Abby nodded, still looking surprised.

“I called you.”

“Miss Claudette told me to turn my phone off. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, Bossman,” Abby gave him the puppy eyes. “Now tell me why you’re here.”

“Tony’s here somewhere,” Gibbs said grimly. “He escaped.”

“ _What_?”

“My fault. I fell asleep. He took my car.”

“While he was asleep?” Abby almost shrieked.

“We assume so,” Yannick nodded.

“McGee tracked my car here,” Gibbs gave Abby a look, warning her that the matter of his car being trackable wasn’t over, which she blithely ignored.

“I haven’t seen him,” Abby was biting her lips now. “But I’ve been up here the whole time. Miss Claudette told me not to go anywhere. She needs to do stuff alone in there right now, but she didn’t want me to go far in case the thing came for me. She wanted to be able to hear me. But later she’s going to call for me to go in there and help her. We practiced everything earlier, so I know exactly what I’ll need to do to help her with the ritual.”

“Stay here, then. We’ll go look for Tony,” Yannick assured her.

“Finish what you have to do up here,” Gibbs agreed.

“Do you both have your gris-gris?” Abby asked.

Yannick nodded, pulling the bag from under his shirt, and Gibbs patted the bag resting under his own shirt. He fingered the bag in his pocket, the one that was supposed to be for Tony except he wasn’t at all receptive to it, and Gibbs hadn’t wanted to rock the boat earlier. He wished that he’d insisted on it, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

Abby nodded, looking determined. “I really hope this works.”

“Me too, Abs,” Gibbs was grim. He hated leaving Abby here, but he had to find Tony before anything happened. Miss Claudette would have to protect her if anything hinky happened.

Gibbs and Yannick quickly checked the other rooms upstairs, in case Tony was there, but didn’t find him. Gibbs kept looking out the windows to the lake, but didn’t see anyone out there either. They went downstairs and Gibbs began to systematically clear each room. Most of the downstairs was dark, and he didn’t find Tony in any of the rooms. They ended up in kitchen, debating whether they should separate and search the grounds. Normally Gibbs wouldn’t even think twice about separating, but the memory of the glowing red eyes made him cautious. He couldn’t let Yannick go alone and unprotected. Not that he was convinced that his gun would do anything to something that wasn’t human and was a malevolent spirit, but he couldn’t just leave Yannick to his own devices. Tony would never forgive him if anything happened to Yannick on his watch.

They ended up staying together, going out the back door to check out the lake. Even though Gibbs had looked out there through the window earlier and seen nothing, it was better to go out there and look at everything in person. Especially since Franklin Paddington and the piano tuner had both ended up drowning themselves, and Tony had been dreaming about the lake all this while.

Yannick was keeping his eyes on the lake while they checked the ruins of the outbuildings in the back, just in case Tony was holed up somewhere, but he wasn’t to be found. Gibbs was just about to suggest checking the front when movement caught his eye. In the trees, nearest to where they were at the lake.

Silently, Gibbs put an arm on Yannick to get his attention and pointed to where he could still see a dark figure moving. Slowly the figure moved closer to them but it was a smooth sort of glide instead of the gait of something walking, moving until the bright moonlight allowed them to see it clearly.

 _It_ was definitely an ‘it’, Gibbs thought, as the thing’s eyes glowed red at them. The dark hood was pulled up, but its pale skin was visible from the depths of the hood, and those fucking eyes were lit up like a beacon. It pulled its hood down and now Gibbs could clearly see it – skin paler than a corpse’s, what looked to be hair, long and straight and free flowing, white as snow. The figure was tall and it had a facsimile of a face. An inhuman face, and not just those inhuman eyes. The thing’s mouth yawned open as it smiled at them, a smile that made shivers go down Gibbs’ spine and his hair stand on end.

Yannick gasped and swallowed audibly. “What the fuck is that?” he hissed at Gibbs.

“I don’t know but it’s the same thing that was watching us that night you all went clubbing and Abby and Tony came here,” Gibbs replied.

“Fuck me,” Yannick muttered.

Gibbs had automatically unholstered his weapon but he didn’t know if he should shoot the thing. Or even if a bullet would even do anything to it. Looking at it in the moonlight now, he was one hundred percent sure that it was definitely not human and who knew if something as mundane as a bullet could end it. But then Gibbs heard the sound of someone splashing into the lake. He flicked his eyes over and saw that Tony, still dressed in the t-shirt and sweatpants that he’d been wearing earlier, was starting to walk into the water.

“No! Tony!” Yannick yelled at him, but the man just slowly kept walking in, as if in a daze. Because he was asleep. Gibbs had no doubt of that.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Gibbs decided he couldn’t wait any longer and fired at the thing, aiming for center mass and double tapping it. It was still smiling eerily at them, and Gibbs was sure that the bullets hit it right dead center of his chest. He was a crack shot, after all. But the shots seemed to just go through its body without causing any damage, as if it wasn’t a corporeal thing. As if it wasn’t physically there.

“Shit,” Gibbs muttered. “Bullets don’t affect it. Go get Tony,” he said to Yannick, keeping his eyes trained on the figure that was still smiling. “Get him out of the lake. I’ll watch this thing.” And probably never sleep again, Gibbs added silently to himself. Because this thing was the creepiest fucking thing he had ever seen, barring the shit that he’d seen in some of the horror movies that Tony had forced him to watch over the years. But this wasn’t a horror movie. This creature wasn’t some computer generated special effects thing. This was real life. There was a thing that was paler than a corpse, eyes glowing a bright, blood red, and smiling at him in a predatory way, and it _wasn’t_ human. It wasn’t anything natural or corporeal. Gibbs’ bullets had done nothing to it.

He could hear Yannick trying to speak to Tony, flicked his eyes over and saw that the dark skinned man had an arm around his SFA and was trying to guide him back to shore, speaking softly and reassuringly to him. But then the thing dissolved into thin air even as Gibbs was watching it, and he heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from the lake. He looked around for the thing but it was gone, so he turned his attention to the lake.

Tony had apparently punched Yannick and he was lying on the sand, half in the water, hands up and unmoving. In Tony’s hand was his service weapon, and he was pointing it at Yannick.

“Hey!” Gibbs barked. “DiNozzo!”

Tony’s face was blank, his eyes glazed over, when he turned to look at Gibbs. His gun was still trained on Yannick.

“You don’t want to do that,” Gibbs told him, pointing his own gun at Tony now, even though he couldn’t believe he was doing it. He had his gun turned on Tony. This whole scenario reeked of wrongness. “Come on, Tony. Put the gun down.”

Tony blinked slowly at him, but made no other moves.

“OK, how about you point the gun at me, huh?” Gibbs kept talking. “After all, I’m the bastard who’s been working you hard all these years, not allowing you time for a personal life, butting in when it’s not wanted, abandoning you when you need me. Why don’t you point your gun at me, huh? I’m sure you want to, right?”

Yannick gave him a shocked look.

Tony cocked his head to the side before he slowly nodded. His motions slow and steady, he moved his arm, pointing his gun at Gibbs instead. He was holding it one handed, instead of two handed, the way they were trained, so Gibbs knew that Tony was not operating on all cylinders. It was such a marked difference, Tony’s usually professional and competent two-handed stance, where his marksmanship was actually not that far behind Gibbs’ own sniper skills. But this stance was absolutely one of someone completely inexperienced at handling a firearm. But inexperienced stance or not, Gibbs couldn’t forget that Franklin Paddington had shot everyone else in the house that night long ago, so he wasn’t going to underestimate Tony, just because he wasn’t exhibiting his usual competence with firearms.

Gibbs inched forward, speaking as reassuringly to Tony as he could, and he pulled Yannick up and pushed him behind him, putting himself squarely in between Tony and Yannick.

“Fall back towards the house, Move slow,” he told Yannick softly, not taking his eyes off Tony. He had the barrel of his own gun pointing downwards, refusing to keep it trained on Tony even if it meant Tony would shoot him, but he hadn’t holstered it yet. He could hear Yannick moving away but he didn’t take a moment to look.

“Tony, you should put the gun down,” Gibbs kept his tone even and calm.

“Do you hear the music?” Tony asked him.

“I do,” he assured the sleeping man.

“It calls to me,” Tony’s words were said in a dreamy voice and he turned his head, giving Gibbs a view of his incredible profile as he gazed longingly at the lake.

“Come with me,” Gibbs tried, and he kept moving forward, carefully and slowly. “I’ll take you to the lake.”

Tony cocked his head to the side again, as if he was listening to something, and slowly he kept stepping backwards, the water up to his waist now. The music or the thing, whatever it was, was compelling him further into the water.

“Tony,” Gibbs was close enough now that he could tackle the man and disarm him if he played his cards right. He snuck a quick look and saw that Yannick was nearing the back door of the house, so he was at least far enough away and should hopefully not be collateral damage if Gibbs’ plan was to go wrong. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the lake. You like being with me at the lake, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Tony’s smile was beautiful, but Gibbs couldn’t even appreciate it. Tony wasn’t stopping moving backwards deeper and deeper into the water.

“Tony, stay with me, baby,” Gibbs pleaded. “Come on, baby. Come with me. Please. I’ll take you to the lake with me. OK? We’ll go together. I hear the music, too, baby.”

Tony gave him a long look before he started moving forward, towards Gibbs again. Gibbs was just about to grab the gun when the fucking _thing_ materialized right behind Tony. It was still smiling, its mouth a wide slash in its face. Its teeth, now visible, were wickedly jagged. It shook its head deliberately, denying Gibbs, and slowly, Tony’s arm moved so he was now pointing his SIG at his own temple.

“No, no, no, Tony, no…” Gibbs’ heart was pounding almost out of his chest now. Tony had the gun to his own head, and he just stood there, not moving now, the thing right behind him, still smiling that creepy as fuck smile at him. “Rousseau, tell Abby to hurry the fuck up in there!” he yelled, before putting that out of his mind, keeping his focus on Tony, the gun at Tony’s head, and the smiling creature behind Tony. That smile was malicious and Gibbs’ brain whirled, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t shoot the thing, he’d tried and bullets went right through it. Could he shoot Tony to stop him from shooting himself? Somewhere non-fatal? It was too risky. Being shot might cause Tony’s finger to squeeze the trigger and that would absolutely be disastrous. So what could he do?

He holstered his own gun, figuring that whatever happened next, he would need both of his hands, and he continued to inch towards Tony. He tried to ignore the being behind Tony, refusing to let that creepy grin affect him. “Tony, come on, baby. Don’t do this,” he didn’t even realize it but he was speaking continuously to the younger man. Calling him ‘baby’, keeping up a stream of chatter that was extremely unlike him, but Tony seemed to be listening to him. Maybe Tony was being controlled by the glowy eyed thing, but Gibbs was still somehow able to reach him. And if that meant Tony might delay pulling the trigger for even a moment longer, Gibbs was going to take that, and run with it.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” Gibbs babbled on. “You don’t want to do this. You know you don’t want to do this. You want to live here in your family home, and be the prodigal Paddington son, right? You want to live in this house. You want to be here and you don’t want to just throw it all away and not even get a chance to live in this house that you love so much, don’t you baby?”

Tony cocked his head, a slight frown creasing his brow.

“Right, baby? You want to live here in this gorgeous house that you’re restoring, right?”

Tony nodded once. “But the music…” he mumbled. “I have to…”

“No. No you don’t, baby. You don’t have to listen to the music. You want to live here, in your beautiful new house. I’ll visit you. I promise. I’ll be here with you. So you should put the gun down, OK? Please, baby? Please, put the gun down. Don’t listen to the music. Listen to me, I’ll take you to the lake. I fucking promise you, it’ll be even better than before. OK? Please?”

The creature’s smile wavered when Tony started to put the gun down. It glared at Gibbs, and there was no mistaking the fury in its visage. Tony’s arm started to move back into position. Gibbs took the chance and tackled his Senior Field Agent. The gun went off once before he knocked it out of Tony’s grip, and there was a shallow line of blood on Tony’s temple. The thing had almost succeeded in making Tony shoot himself. But if Gibbs thought that getting shot would be enough to wake Tony, he was wrong. He found himself holding on to the younger man, getting him upright.

Yannick was yelling both their names, running towards them.

“Stay back!” Gibbs yelled at him, keeping Tony in his grip and trying to move them both away from the creature and back towards the shore.

“A few more minutes and Miss Claudette will be done!” Yannick was yelling at him.

“OK!” Gibbs could do this. They just needed to stall for a few more minutes. Because whatever it was that Miss Claudette was doing _had_ to work. There were no other options.

But then the creature growled, an inhuman noise that made all of Gibbs’ hair stand on end. It yanked Tony right out of Gibbs’ grasp and smiled, holding Tony close to its body, its pale face reflecting on the surface of the water. It was pulling Tony deeper, and even though Gibbs was hanging on and trying to dig in his heels, he was no match for the creature’s strength. And the worst part about it was that Tony’s mouth stretched into a smile, a grotesque parody of a smile, one that looked exactly like the smile the creature had on its face.

Then the creature just pushed Tony’s head down below the water, and without a sound, Tony went under.

“No!” Gibbs screamed, scrabbling to try to get Tony’s head back above the surface, but the creature kept holding him down. For his part, Tony wasn’t even struggling. No involuntary jerks or kicks to try to free himself. He wasn’t trying to fight it, or to fight for breath. He looked like he would calmly breathe in the water and drown without a fuss. And that scared Gibbs even more than the creature did.

“No!” he repeated over and over. He tried to punch the being, but his arm went right through the creature’s head, its grotesque smile reappearing as soon as Gibbs pulled his arm back. Yannick was in the lake with them now, trying to help Gibbs pull Tony’s head out of the water, and he was also trying to splash the water in such a way, to part the surface such that Tony’s face would be exposed to the air, but Gibbs knew they were desperate now. There was no way Tony would survive much more of this drowning. He took a deep breath and ducked underwater, sealing his lips to Tony’s forcing his mouth open with his tongue and the hand on Tony’s jaw, clamping his nostrils shut, and blowing into Tony’s mouth. He closed Tony’s mouth and resurfaced. He could at least continue to help Tony breathe, a desperate attempt at the buddy system, while Miss Claudette finished what she was doing.

Yannick was babbling words of encouragement to Gibbs and praising him for the idea to help Tony breathe. The third time that Gibbs tried to breathe air into Tony’s lungs, he felt himself being forcibly pulled away. The creature had a hold of _him_ now, but it didn’t seem as if it could control Gibbs’ mind and force him to do its bidding. Maybe it was because Gibbs hadn’t touched the piano, or whatever the cursed object might be, Gibbs didn’t know. But all the thing could do was affect him physically. It was incredibly strong, though. Gibbs struggled in the thing’s hold, trying to free himself, and in the course of his struggles, the gris-gris bag flopped out of from under his shirt.

The things screamed then, a bloodcurdling noise, and recoiled from Gibbs, freeing him. But it was still holding Tony underwater, and Tony was still not struggling. Yannick had taken over the duties of trying to blow air into Tony’s lungs while he was underwater, but it wasn’t looking good.

“There’s water in his lungs now,” Yannick was yelling. “I can’t help him anymore. He’s breathing in the water!”

Gibbs felt the outline of the spare gris-gris bag that Miss Claudette had given him, the one that he’d failed to convince Tony to put on. He pulled the bag out of his pocket and shoved it onto Tony’s chest, but it didn’t do anything except make the thing scream again, only this time Tony opened his mouth underwater, screaming along with the thing. Desperate to save him, Gibbs did the only thing he could think of to do. He shoved the gris-gris bag into the creature’s open mouth, and its screams grew so loud that both Yannick and Gibbs were forced to cover their ears. After a long moment of the thing’s screams escalating into an angered howl, it disappeared and Tony popped up to the surface, finally freed from the thing’s grasp.

Even though Gibbs didn’t know if the thing was gone for good, he didn’t care. He and Yannick pulled Tony back to shore as quickly as they could.

Gibbs felt for a pulse and realized that Tony had no pulse. He wasn’t breathing. Without further ado, he pinched Tony’s nose shut and blew in a breath, before he moved to his chest and started to do chest compressions. Yannick took over chest compressions while Gibbs blew into Tony’s mouth, and they worked together, performing CPR.

The creature reappeared, still screaming, its jaw hanging open, its eyes burning a bright, blood red. Its fingers ended in sharp claws. It smacked Yannick out of the way, sending him flying a good few yards away, and was about to slash into Tony’s chest, but then the kitchen door slammed open and Miss Claudette was yelling words in a language that Gibbs didn’t recognize. The creature’s cries grew even louder and more desperate, until Miss Claudette yelled something and it basically exploded into a million pieces and wisps of what looked like smoke. The smoke began coalescing again.

“Now, Abigail!” Miss Claudette yelled.

Abby slipped a bag over something in Miss Claudette’s hand and pulled the drawstring tight. Miss Claudette took the bag from her and chanted more words. The smoke was dramatically sucked into the bag, as if pulled by an extremely powerful vacuum.

Gibbs tore his eyes away from what was going on with the ladies, feeling Tony’s neck again. Still no pulse. He flicked a quick glance at Yannick who seemed to still be down for the count, but he hoped Abby would go check on him because he needed to continue performing CPR on his Senior Field Agent, the man who was one of his oldest friend, and the man that he cared for, maybe even loved, with all his heart. He couldn’t lose Tony this way. He kept on going for how many minutes, he didn’t know, ignoring everything else that was going on, until Tony suddenly began coughing up water and struggling to finally draw breath.

Relieved, he turned Tony over so he wouldn’t choke on the probably copious amount of liquid he was trying to expel from his lungs. He sat on his heels, exhausted, one hand rubbing his face, the other rubbing Tony’s back, hoping that it would help Tony cough up all that water. It was also grounding him in the here and now. He hadn’t lost Tony. They had to fight some creepy supernatural being – that thing was _not_ natural at all – to save Tony, but they’d prevailed. He hoped. All he could do now was keep rubbing Tony’s back and mutter soft words into his ear, thanking god that Tony was still with them. Still alive.

After some time, Gibbs could hear the sound of sirens in the distance. He was vaguely aware that Abby was helping Yannick sit up, but he was cradling Tony in his arms and his lap now, so he didn’t care. Tony was OK. The wound on Tony’s forehead was still bleeding sluggishly, but it was a shallow wound and Gibbs wasn’t worried about it. Just a graze. Tony would be fine. Everything was OK now. Everything had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened... hope it worked for you guys.
> 
> There's going to be just one more chapter tomorrow! :D


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, you guys. I know I promised you a Chapter 9 but as I was editing it, it just grew and grew and grew, and I realized that maybe the aftermath of what happened in Shadowed Spaces might merit its own story. I honestly wanted to just wrap it all up, because I never thought this was going to go on beyond the climax and a wrap up chapter. The wrap up chapter is sounding like the beginning of another story, and I felt that in order to keep it within the confines of this one chapter, the ending felt rushed and kind of trite.
> 
> So I appropriated the first bit of what I had written for Chapter 9 and I'm going to call it an epilogue. And I'm going to finish this story here, at this epilogue. I will also be working on a third story for this series that will give us more of these characters, the situation, the aftermath, and Tony's fate after this. I hope you will be OK with that. 😁
> 
> So, here's the epilogue!

**Epilogue**

[](https://i.imgur.com/g4BjvEr.jpg)

When the EMTs arrived, they immediately went to work on Tony and were also examining Yannick, who was conscious and sitting up now. Gibbs kept his eyes on Tony, now that he couldn’t keep his hands on the man. Tony was still unconscious even though Gibbs had got him breathing again. It didn’t take very long for the paramedics to strap Tony onto a gurney, load him into the ambulance and take him to the hospital. Abby and Vic Velasquez pressured Yannick to go with them since he had a concussion.

Afterwards, Gibbs, Abby and Miss Claudette were taken to the station to give their statements. At this point, Gibbs honestly didn’t have the energy nor the creativity to talk to Vic in such a way that he softened the whole ‘malevolent spirit made Tony do it’ story, and he doubted that Abby would have concealed it, even if she had been asked to do so. So he didn’t. He told Vic in bald terms exactly what he’d witnessed, what he’d done, and how he and Yannick had had to do battle against something that he couldn’t expect her to believe in, since he’d gotten up close and personal to the thing and still didn’t know if _he_ believed it or not. And that this being had been the entity responsible for Tony’s sleep deprivation, parasomnia, and was compelling Tony to drown himself in the lake. He described exactly how it all went down and afterwards, leaned back and just stared at the detective.

She stared right back.

“Not sure how you’re going to write this one up,” Gibbs grimaced.

“Did you even hear what you were saying?” Vic demanded.

“Uh-huh,” Gibbs nodded wryly.

Vic stared at him a moment longer before she sighed. “All of your stories match,” she shook her head. “Even Yan’s.”

“It’s what happened,” Gibbs shrugged. “I don’t have an explanation for it.”

“Miss Claudette did,” Vic raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t even want to know,” Gibbs blew out a breath. “So how _are_ you going to write this up?”

Vic leaned back and linked her fingers together on the table in front of them. “I figure, put it down to hallucinations caused by extreme sleep deprivation and exhaustion caused Agent DiNozzo to try to kill himself? You stopped him from shooting himself and then he tried to drown himself, and that’s that.”

Gibbs frowned. He hated that this story didn’t really show Tony in a good light, but the evidence would absolutely point to Tony’s gunshot wound being self-inflicted, and that the bullet had come from his own gun. They had two eyewitnesses saying Tony wasn’t even awake, and reams of medical evidence on the extent of Tony’s sleep deprivation. Hallucination was one of the side effects of sleep deprivation. It all seemed logical.

“We’ll keep it quiet,” Vic murmured. “His job won’t be affected by this. As long as he can get the medical clearance, he can go back to work. Hell, I don’t see why any of this has to be public knowledge. But we’d best hope that what Miss Claudette did fixes his whole sleepwalking thing.”

“Do you actually believe us?” Gibbs had to ask.

Vic smiled. “I’ve lived in Roanoke a long time, Agent Gibbs. Paddington House and what happened there a long time ago was no joke. It’s part of the fabric of Roanoke, part of our history, and I won’t lie. I never understood what the fuck was going on with Franklin Paddington and how he could have done all those things. Even a psychotic break made no sense of it. What you’ve told me tonight, this actually explains the bejesus out of what happened then.”

Gibbs nodded.

“I’m just glad we didn’t lose Tony, too,” she sighed.

Gibbs grunted his agreement.

“I think that’s all we need from you right now.”

“Thanks,” Gibbs glanced at his watch and saw that it was in the wee hours of the morning. Abby had already let him know that she was taking Miss Claudette back to the hotel and staying there with her, so he was on his own for the rest of the night.

“Need a ride back to Tony’s apartment?” Vic offered. “I’ll drive you. We’ll finalize the paperwork on this in the morning.”

“Glad I’m not on the hook for the paperwork for once,” Gibbs rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tempt me to put you to work!” Vic grinned at him. “So? Tony’s?”

“Drop me off at the hospital?” Gibbs asked.

Vic smiled at him. “Of course.”

Gibbs found his way to Tony’s room not long after that. Tony wasn’t awake. Gibbs had been told that Tony hadn’t woken up, although his condition was stable. There was a small bandage on his temple, where the bullet had grazed him, and other than the fact that he still looked thin and pale, he seemed fine. Gibbs was just glad that Tony was in a bed with his eyes closed instead of running around the hallways of the hospital looking for a lake or any other body of water.

Thinking about that made him shudder. Whatever that thing was that he had had the misfortune of confronting earlier, he really hoped that Miss Claudette had taken care of it and that Tony was free of its clutches forever. He sat by the bedside, and clasped Tony’s hand. He’d almost lost him tonight. Sure, it wasn’t a new concept, that Tony could die, or he could, after all they were cops. They ran towards trouble and not away from it. Their jobs were dangerous and they could die in the line of duty on any given day. But Tony had almost died in a way that Gibbs _still_ had trouble wrapping his brain around. Worst of all, it would have been a pointless death, and that wasn’t what Tony would have wanted.

He wished that he knew whether Tony was unconscious or asleep. And if he was asleep, was he _truly_ asleep? He wished he knew whether he’d achieved REM sleep. Because if he wasn’t achieving deep or REM sleep, he could be out of bed and taking a walk before long. He couldn’t count on the fact that whatever Miss Claudette had done had completely eradicated that thing’s influence over Tony. He just had no idea, and no idea what to think. In the end, he knew that he was too tired to stay awake and keep an eye on Tony, and experience had taught him that if he fell asleep on the job, then Tony would make a run for it and he could lose the man forever.

Disregarding what the hospital staff would say, Gibbs left the room for a moment, found a supply closet and appropriated scrubs. His clothes were still fairly wet from being in the lake and he had no desire to stay in them much longer. He went back to Tony’s room, changed into the scrubs and hung his clothes to dry. He put the guard rails up on Tony’s bed, then climbed on, scooching Tony over until there was room for him to lay himself down on his side and drape an arm over the man to ensure that no matter what happened, Tony wouldn’t escape and go try to drown himself again.

He sighed, finally relaxing now that he had Tony in his arms again. Whatever else might not make complete sense to him, _this_ , this feeling of contentment that he had when he had Tony in his arm and in his bed, this wasn’t imagined. This feeling was _real_. And until he had irrefutable proof that Tony wouldn’t be getting up and taking a joyride in his car while asleep again, he was going to hold on to the man and keep him in bed for as long as he needed to. He didn’t want to think about all the medical tests that Tony would have to endure after this, but he would be there for him for every minute of it. Hopefully this time, the tests would prove that Tony was fine or was on the road to being fine. Because a future in which Tony was still mysteriously sick with something that may or may not be caused by a supernatural being was completely unacceptable.

Gibbs didn’t know what the future would bring; whether Tony would kick him out of bed once he was well again, or if Tony would want to remain in his position at NCIS or even continue to live in DC once this all blew over. That was entirely up to Tony and he wouldn’t stand in the man’s way, once he was himself again, and these sleep issues were cured. Maybe Tony would want to move to Roanoke as soon as his house was ready, and maybe he might want Yannick, who he was more than fond of, to live in this beautiful new house with him. Gibbs couldn’t predict what Tony might do or want in the future. But what he did know was that life was too short, and right now he was going to enjoy having Tony in his life, in his bed, and in his arms, for this moment and for as long as the man would let him. And for now, that would have to be enough.

Gibbs closed his eyes and allowed sleep to overtake his tired body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she said 😉
> 
> For the record, the music that I listened to obsessively is [Gnosienne no 1, 2, 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUAF3abGY2M) by Eric Satie. It is also the piano music that Tony hears in his dreams (or waking dreams, I suppose, since he never achieved REM sleep during his parasomniac episodes). This piece really haunts me now, and the fact that I found the music to be a combination of mysterious/spooky/haunting/eerie yet dreamy, kind of enchanting, and at times dramatic, hopefully allowed me to capture some of this in the story as well.
> 
> I have to give a HUGE shoutout to my wonderful (and incredibly patient) artist, [WaterSoter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter). This was originally [a 2018 NCIS Reverse Bang challenge prompt](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/solariana/7360051/39025/39025_original.jpg) and I finally managed to give you the second part to complete the prompt from last year. Thank you for your patience and your friendship. I hope you like how the story, in its entirety, turned out.
> 
> Also deserving of praise is my beta, [jesco0307](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesco0307/pseuds/jesco0307). She does amazing work and gives me feedback that I value greatly, as it really helps to improve the story. For that, I give her my thanks. *hugs*
> 
> And speaking of the NCIS Reverse Bang Challenge, just wanted to let you guys know that the 2019 NCIS Reverse Bang Challenge stories and artwork will be posted next month (or the month of May, Im wunderschönen Monat Mai, in the beautiful month of May) and I have two stories written for this challenge. One will be posted on May 15th, and the other on May 25th, so I hope I'll see you guys there! 😬🤞🏽
> 
> Thank you so much for your support of me and my stories! I know I'm behind on replying to comments, but I will get on that, as soon as I can. You guys are the best! Until next month! ❤️❤️💋
> 
> -j  
> xoxo

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Shadowed Spaces (Additional Art to the Sequel of the Inheritance)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869968) by [WaterSoter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter/pseuds/WaterSoter)




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